


The Midnight Watch

by Kerichi



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Must love dragons, Vampire with benefits
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-12
Updated: 2016-12-22
Packaged: 2018-09-08 03:58:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 27,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8829592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kerichi/pseuds/Kerichi
Summary: It started with a Christmas visit and his father asking, "If you patrol during the day, who takes the night watch?" Charlie's search for an answer leads to his discovery of a nocturnal keeper named Nadia and a thirteenth use for dragons' blood.





	1. Charlie

 

Falling snow was an icy curtain across the windowpane, veiling the glimpse of forest beyond the alpine meadow. Inside one of the small cottages clustered around the dragon research centre, colourful paper chains and evergreen boughs lent a festive air to bare wooden walls. On a side table in the lounge, an Orpheus Orb spun like a top, broadcasting a medley of Christmas Carols. Stubby Boardman's God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs currently played. Within the kitchen, a feast weighed down the table adorned with a lace cloth brought with the food from Devon. Seated across from his parents and his sister, Charlie Weasley breathed in the aroma of turkey and roasted potatoes and smiled. It felt like home—minus five brothers.

Charlie eagerly took a bite of bacon-wrapped sausage dripping with lashings of hot gravy. He'd missed his mum's cooking. As he chewed, he wondered who had volunteered for patrol that day. He hoped it wasn't Emil. His housemate was staying with family in the wizarding village in a lower valley. Emil shouldn't have to leave them.

"Almost like Christmas at the Burrow, isn't it, dear?" Molly asked brightly. "The food, the music, Charlie dreaming of dragons instead of making the most of his limited time with us."

Ginny's snorting laughs made Charlie swallow his food the wrong way. He began to cough.

Molly’s tone sharpened with concern. "Take a drink. Wash it down."

It was hard to follow the advice with his sister pounding on his back, but Charlie managed to drain his wine glass. "Thanks, Ginny. Sorry, Mum. I was thinking about my friend, hoping the others didn't take advantage of Emil's good nature to skive off patrol duty. There are a few blokes spending Christmas alone. One of them should be flying the perimeter to check the wards."

Molly spooned another helping of Brussels sprouts onto her plate. "Yes, they should. What else have they to do?"

"Drink and play cards, I expect," Arthur answered. "Pass the cranberry sauce, Ginny."

Charlie raised his eyebrows to see spots of red appear on his mum's cheeks.

She fingered the locket Dad gave her earlier that morning as a present, jerking the heart pendant back and forth. "You need seconds on cranberry sauce, Arthur? Is the turkey dry?"

"No. You've simply outdone yourself on the sauce. Bravo, my love."

Charlie exchanged grins with Ginny. It was amusing—although slightly disturbing—to watch his parents make eyes at each other like newlyweds. Charlie tucked into his dinner and decided to be thankful he had loving parents, and that his mum was ace at cookery.

Later, after he and Ginny pulled the wishbone and helped with the washing up, Charlie settled into his favourite chair beside the fire. Ginny sat on the rug reading a book with the picture of a teenaged couple on the cover. His parents sat close together on the old-fashioned settee. While his mum knitted, his dad asked questions about the centre. Charlie answered almost by rote, until he heard, "If you patrol during the day, who takes the night watch?"

Charlie was completely gobsmacked. "I—I don't know," he said. "I've been here since I left school, well over a year, and no one's ever mentioned it."

_And I've never wondered. Am I that single minded?_

A smile flickered across his face as he admitted to himself that when it came to dragons, yes, he was.

"Maybe there isn't a watch at night," Ginny said matter-of-factly, her gaze glued to her book. "Because the dragons are sleeping."

Arthur stretched out his legs and linked his hands together across his stomach. "Perhaps it's locals from the village, community support and all that."

Molly said, "They do have a vested interest in making sure the dragons stay within a protected habitat."

"Yeah," Charlie said. "They do."

His dad closed his eyes. "Doesn't the centre have a logbook?" he asked sleepily. "You could check that to see if it solves your mystery..." His voice trailed away. A few seconds later, he began to snore.

"Don't feel you have to keep us company, Charlie, love," his mum said. "Go solve your mystery if you like."

He wanted to, but it was Christmas, a time for family. He could wait. "I'm in no hurry." Charlie bent to take a closer look at the cover of Ginny's novel. The girl had red hair while the boy was—an opportunity to tease. "Is that the type you go for? Lads who style their hair to look like they've just left the Quidditch pitch? Or is it blokes who don't own a comb?"

Ginny swatted at him with her book. "Shut up before I drag you outside to play in the snow."

Instantly, Charlie was out of the chair and bending to haul his sister off the rug and sling her over his shoulder. "I think I'd rather dump you  _into_ the snow!"

"Not so fast!" Mum tossed her knitting aside to reach for her wand. "Remember the rules: Warming and Waterproof Charms, Wellingtons and woollies!"

Charlie set Ginny on her feet. "Since gloves seem to be optional," he said with a wink, "Do you want to go bare handed or try out the green dragon hide pair I forgot to wrap and put in your Christmas stocking?"

His sister's face lit up. "Green's my favourite colour!"

He used an  _Accio_  charm to fetch the gloves.

It wasn't until his parents retired for the night that Charlie decided to stroll over to the centre to take a look at the logbook.

"Should I wake Mum and Dad if you're not back in an hour?" Ginny asked from her makeshift bed on the settee.

"Will you still be awake? I thought our snowball fight wore you out, the way you dodged so poorly at the end."

Ginny peered at him over the edge of her novel. "In the spirit of Christmas, I took pity on you for your bad aim and gave you an easy target."

Charlie grinned in appreciation of her cheekiness. "Happy Christmas to you, too, and no, don't wait up. I might—" he stopped short of saying, "investigate a mystery."

"Have a drink and play cards with your friends?" Ginny lowered her book to reveal a smirk. "Remember that I'm going to wake you up early to take me flying."

He walked over to ruffle her hair. "How old are you? Ten going on twenty? What do you know about drinking?"

"Not much."

Charlie tweaked her nose. "Good. Keep it that way."

At the front door he took a full-length dragon hide coat down from a peg and dragged it on before pulling his black, sheepskin-lined hat down to cover his ears. His hair was longer than Mum liked, but not enough to keep his earlobes from freezing. He flexed his fingers in his gloves and stamped his feet.

"Is that a Romanian dance?" Ginny watched him over the back of the settee.

He chuckled. Emil had asked if it was an English dance. "No. Something I do before I get ready to patrol. It's just habit. I'm not flying anywhere."

"Oh. Goodnight." She sank down out of view.

" _Noapte bună_."

Her head popped up. "Is that Romanian? Are you learning the language? Will you teach me some phrases?"

"I'm trying, and yes, tomorrow, so good night."

 _"NWAHP-teh BOO-nuh!"_ Ginny called after him.

Her pronunciation was better than his, Charlie thought ruefully. He made his way to the centre using a  _Lumos_ charm to light the darkness.

Unlike the cottages he passed, the centre had no candles burning in the windows.  _Maybe Ginny has the right of it._   _There's no need for anyone to patrol at night._ Immediately, his twin brothers' merry faces flashed into mind. At home, Mum and Dad were the "keepers" who had prevented Fred and George from sneaking out of the house on too many nights to count. If humans pushed boundaries day or night, was it logical to believe dragons wouldn't? Diurnal didn't mean  _only_ active during the day.

Charlie disengaged the ward to enter the building through a side entrance, his breath a pale mist in the shadowy darkness. No one had been in the centre that day to cast warming spells. He headed directly to the muster room. On a table of worn pine, open for anyone to see, was the daily log. He raised his wand to illumine the pages. There were no night watches recorded over the last two years.

On the back wall, library-sized bookshelves held the logbooks of years past. Charlie selected a record from five years ago, then ten, then twenty. He found no evidence that anyone had ever flown a patrol at night.

After re-shelving the hefty tomes, he carried one final logbook over to the table. "If there wasn't a night watch fifty years ago, there never was such a thing," he muttered. After turning the first couple of pages, he exhaled sharply in frustration. With a snap, he closed the book.

He didn't believe in Divination, but he was willing to try anything once.

Charlie balanced the book on its spine, concentrated on what he wanted to know and let the logbook fall open. Eyes closed, he reached down. When his finger touched the right side of the page, it slid upward. Charlie was able to translate a couple of words from the log dated November 22, 1941, 0200.

**Caves...Vilhorat...**

Charlie read the name of the keeper who had made the entry. N. Tedescu.

He skimmed the pages and found the entries stopped abruptly on December fourteenth and never resumed. He wondered why.

" _Accio_  information on N. Tedescu!" Charlie cried waving his wand at the doorway.

A thin, black, leather-bound book zoomed into the room and landed on the table. He opened the first page. It was logbook, with the first entry dated February 14, 1942. He couldn't do more than pick out a word here and there, but Charlie recognised the handwriting. Instead of N. Tedescu, the keeper signed only one name: Nadia.

He flipped through the pages, eventually realising two things. First, the logbook was enchanted to stay slim while never running out of parchment: there were blank pages at the back. Second, the same person made every entry from February 1942 to December 1991: Nadia Tedescu. It was almost too incredible to get his head around. Why had this woman worked for almost fifty years in secret? She had to be getting old—a regular McGonagall. Were the Romanian and English wizarding Ministries responsible? Had they demanded cutbacks at the centre, forcing the staff to find a way to pay their night keeper off the official books?

Charlie decided to find out.  _I'm going flying after all._ He sent the logbook back to wherever it had come.  _And I'm finally going get some more use out of that Night Vision Spell Bill and I came up with to play hide and seek in the dark._

Since there were no senior keepers around, he took the fastest, latest-model broomstick out of the shed. The Comet Two Sixty handled like a dream. His eyes, magically altered to be sensitive to the longer wavelengths of light, tinted everything he saw with red. He saw wolves and a lynx, but no dragons.

_Caves...Vilhorat...._

On a hunch, Charlie flew higher, up to the shallow caves beneath the conical peak that looked its name: burnt. Hungarian Horntails nested at this time of year. Keepers monitored the temperature of the sands in the cave to ensure the sands remained warm enough to incubate dragon eggs. At night, in cold weather, wouldn't a diligent keeper be twice as likely to check and renew Heating Charms if needed?

He landed on a sandstone slope, using a Shrinking Spell to store his broom in a pocket. After nonverbal spells to neutralise his scent and silence his footsteps, he cast a Disillusionment Charm. The extended bout of spell casting left him swaying on his feet. He should have said no to a third glass of wine with leftovers. Charlie took deep, slow breaths and waited until his light-headedness passed to climb up to the nearest cave.

A blacked scaled dragoness lay curled around a clutch of eggs half-buried in volcanic sand. Her tail twitched. Charlie crept forward to slide his hand into the sand. It was hot. Someone had cast a Heating Charm recently.

Charlie crawled out of the cave and slowly made his way along the snow-covered slope. Interestingly, he found that even in caves occupied by lone males with no eggs to incubate, the sand was still hot. Not many of his workmates would have wasted their time and energy to heat the sand above a tolerable, warm temperature. Was it a Christmas gift from the night keeper?

When he had accounted for every nesting Horntail dragoness, there was still one cave left to check. The likelihood that he would find the mysterious Nadia inside was slim, yet he couldn't turn away. His stubborn streak pressed him to continue. In for a Sickle, in for a Galleon.

He approached the cave from the side. At once, he could tell something wasn't right. Dragons slept curled up like cats. This one had his neck stretched out as though he'd fallen from a Stunning Spell, and there was something else—something attached to the body. Charlie stared in shock when he recognised the shape as that of a woman in black clothing moving away from the dragon.

" _Multumesc foarte mult dragul meu prieten."_  The woman's voice was low and husky.

Charlie understood enough Romanian to know she had said, "Thank you very much, my dear friend." What he couldn't understand was what she was thanking her "friend" for. Had she taken claws or fangs, perhaps bottled blood to sell on the black market? Anger brought him to his feet and into the cave. "Dragons are a protected species. If you've harmed this creature in any way, you'll be prosecuted."

She whirled around. " _Eu nu am ranit pe nimeni, Englez._ "

He took a closer look at her and froze. This wasn't a seventy-year-old witch! Night vision cast a red glare over everything, but the woman didn't look much older than him. She must be Nadia's granddaughter. " _Nu vorbesc bine româneste_ —I don't speak Romanian well," he said. "Do you speak English?  _Vorbiţi engleză_?"

She tilted her head, considering him for several moments before nodding sharply. " _Da_. I said I hurt no one."

"Then what were you doing? Only authorised—"

"Do I look like a  _turist, Englez_?" In the blink of an eye, she was standing in front of him, pointing to the mouth of the cave. "You are the one not authorised to be here. Go, before I am tempted to wake my friend from his slumber."

Seen up close, her pale, unlined skin and long black hair confirmed Charlie's guess about the woman's age. "You didn't answer my question."

It was a trick of night vision, of course, but her dark eyes seemed to glow red with anger. "I answer to no one, Englishman."

"Not even Dimitrie Maslahaun?" Surely her grandmother wouldn't want the Head Keeper notified of this trespass.

"No one! Fly to Dimitrie if you do not believe me. Tell him you patrol at night. Tell him you accused Nadia of harming dragons. See how fast you are sent back to England!"

Charlie tried to comprehend what she was saying. "You're named after your grandmother Nadia? Nadia Tedescu?"

"My _bunica_ was Afina. I am Nadia Tedescu."

Details overlooked before suddenly registered. It was bitterly cold outside the cave, and she wasn't wearing a hat, cloak, or gloves. When she'd told him to go, he'd felt the urge to obey. Only his stubborn will—and the desire to see her face more closely—enabled him to resist.

When her lips curved, his pulse leapt. She had a beautiful mouth.

"And you are?" she asked, in her pleasantly accented voice.

He was riveted by the way her lips moved.

"Late," he said, tearing his eyes away. "I'm expected back. I have to go." Charlie turned on his heel, silently chanting charms of protection. He retrieved and mounted his broomstick, speeding as fast as he could toward home.

Snow began to fall. It felt good against his flushed face. How could he have been so bloody stupid? It had been years since his third year DADA lesson on vampires, but that was no excuse for not recognising one!

_I didn't expect her to look so young._

Back at the centre, he decided not to confront the Head Keeper. If he did, Charlie would have to confess how he discovered Nadia, which might give Dimitrie an excuse to sack him. He refused to let that happen. He'd worked too hard for his position!

He returned the Comet to the shed and walked home. Charlie was about to open the front door when he heard a sound.

_Meow._

A black cat stood on the snowy path behind him. It lifted a paw and shook off the snow.

"Scat," he said, pointing his wand at the feline. He'd never seen a cat around the centre before.

It meowed again, a pitiful, mewing sound. He wanted to pick the animal up and pet it, bring it inside to get warm by the fire.

"Is this how you find your victims, slinking around humans as a cat?" he said harshly.

The front door opened. "Who are you talking to, Charlie?"

In the time it took to look at Ginny, standing with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, and glance back, the cat had vanished.

"No one," he said. "I was talking to myself. Go back to bed."

She didn't listen, and trailed after him as he went around the house casting extra security wards. "Is there something bad outside that's trying to come in?"

"I don't know, but I'm not taking any chances." Charlie hugged his sister and steered her to the lounge.

He went to his room and almost jumped out of his skin to see a black cat peering at him through snow-frosted glass. She was stalking him! Adrenaline rushed through his veins. He jerked open the window. "I'm not inviting you to do anything but come in, say your peace, then leave."

In a fluid motion, the cat sprang into the room.

Charlie clenched his wand in readiness. "If you attack me you'll regret it, vampire."

The cat transformed into a woman. "Villagers call me moroii, a shape shifter, but I prefer  _strigoi,_ from  _strigă,_ witch _._ "

"You're undead in any language."

"I find it preferable to the alternative." Nadia smiled slightly, drawing his gaze to lips that were even more seductive in the candlelight. "You left before we completed our introductions," she said. "And you are...?"

"Not interested in being a blood donor if that's what you're after."

"I do not drink human blood," she said, "so you have nothing to fear."

_Thank you very much, my dear friend._

She didn't drink human blood because she already had a source of food: dragons. Weirdly, it made him feel better about having a vampire patrolling the reserve at night—and finding her attractive. She wasn't a threat to humans, and as Mum said about the villagers, Nadia had a vested interest in making sure the dragons stayed within their habitat. "I don't fear you," he said.

"I hear your heart pounding."

Well, that was embarrassing. "Doesn't mean I'm afraid."

" _Nu?_ "

Her uncertainty made her seem vulnerable, more human. He said, "I'm Charlie Weasley."

"Ah, C.W. I've read your entries in the log. Two ironbellies were fighting for territory in the gorge last week. You used an Aversion Charm. Clever."

"Thanks."

"You are still a trainee?"

He smiled a little. "I should be offered a keeper position next summer, if Dimitrie doesn't send me back to England."

"I will tell him nothing. I followed to tell you that."

Their eyes continued to hold. It slowly dawned on Charlie that if Nadia had only followed to inform him she wouldn't tell Dimitrie about their encounter, she would have already left. His heart skipped a beat. Was she as drawn to him as he was to her? "I decided not to say anything, either. After all," he said, in an attempt to lighten the tension arcing between them, "you do have a half century of seniority."

She smiled fully, displaying canines that weren't half as long as those he'd seen on some unfortunate girls. "And I never miss a night of work."

"Except for those two months between '41 and '42?"

Her expression became so melancholy, Charlie wanted to hex himself. That must have been when she was attacked.

" _Da_."

Suddenly, he wanted to know how Nadia had survived and everything she had seen and done and learned about dragons. He was curious about dragon blood. Was it better for vampires— _strigoi_ —than human blood? More potent? The blood could be used for oven cleaner. How did she drink it without damaging her skin?

Charlie wasn't the only one with questions. Nadia asked almost shyly, "Will you tell me about your daylight patrols?" Her expression was wistful. "I have missed seeing dragon wings block out the sun."

His breath caught in his throat. He could hear it in her voice; she loved dragons as much as he did.

Fully aware that he was taking a risk, Charlie said, "My family is leaving in a few days, and my housemate won't return until New Year's. If you'd like to come over some night before you go on patrol."

"You are inviting me into your home?"

His home, his life—hell, he didn't know what he felt or where their talks would lead. It didn't matter. He wasn't the type to play it safe. "Yes."

She responded with a smile that enhanced her dangerous beauty. "I accept your invitation."

 

 

 


	2. Nadia

 

_Two weeks later..._

Nadia gasped for air when she awoke. An ironic habit, since she no longer breathed like humans. She was  _strigoi_ —vampire.

She left the curtained warmth of her bed and waved a hand to light the candles that floated around the stone chamber. Although she could see in the dark, Nadia preferred light in all things. That trait had earned her numerous detentions at Durmstrang.

_You are to here to learn Dark Arts, not defend against them!_

When it came to her "subversion of lesson plans," Professor Grecoff lived hacked off, as Charlie Weasley would say, for five long years until Dark Arts were no longer a mandatory part of her curriculum. Rumour had it that Grecoff had toasted her absence with a bottle of vodka. Nadia smiled. She and her friend Elie had celebrated too, with triangles of baklava smuggled up from the kitchen.

At the foot of her bed, she ran a hand over the intricate floral pattern carved onto a chest once meant to hold a dowry. Now it held mementos of the past. She considered opening the lid to find pictures of her schooldays and then dismissed the urge. This was a night to live in the present.

Behind the carved and painted wooden screen that partitioned her tub and dressing area, Nadia got ready for the evening. The bath, while not necessary for hygiene, was relaxing.

She opened a secret panel in the wall and stepped into the cellar. A movable wine rack slid back into place, concealing her place of rest. She chose a bottle of brandy and went upstairs. In the kitchen, the heat of the fire intensified the fragrance of the herbs and peppers that dangled from the ceiling. Nadia found her daylight guardian reading a paper in a chair beside the hearth. His pointed ears twitched.

"Good evening, Costi," she said.

" _Buna seara_ ," he replied absently. A second later, he jumped to his feet. " _Doamna_  Nadia!"

After years of requests to use her first name without "mistress" attached, she had given up all but the occasional invitation. Costi was young for a house-elf, yet hide-bound when it came to tradition. His parents had revered her grandmother as their  _Doamna_ , and he was determined to follow their example.

She set the bottle on the low table carved in the shape of a sunburst and sat in one of the chairs Costi had fashioned from a tree trunk, using arched branches for arms and legs. "Do I smell  _mamaliga_?" Polenta and cream was one of the elf's favourite dishes. Hers, too, once upon a time: these days she could only savour the aroma.

" _Da_." He pointed to the newspapers on the table. Muggle editions of  _Romania Libera_ and  _Adevarul_ piled atop the wizard  _Profet Curent_ and the English  _Daily Prophet._  "Many things has happened." He shared the articles of interest.

She listened closely. It was important to know how Muggle and wizarding Ministries were affecting the outside world. She had chosen a life of seclusion, not insularism.

"You believe Iliescu will remain  _Preşedintele_?" she asked.

" _Da._ The state controls the media." He tapped the  _Daily Prophet_ with a knobbly finger. "Wizard Ministries are no different," he said grimly.

Nadia tried to brighten her friend's mood. "At least wizard papers have Fiendishly Difficult Crosswords."

"True." A twinkle appeared in round green eyes. "Name a breed of flying horse that begins with "A."

"Abraxan."

" _Nu_. Eight letters," he said.

She remembered another name from a bestiary tome. "Aethonon."

Costi finished the crossword and ended their talk—not with the usual overheard village gossip, but by removing a letter from the pocket of his sheep's wool vest. "This came by owl today."

She broke the wax seal and read:

**The dragons must do without you for one night, _scumpa mea_. Word of my reclusive "child" piqued Luchian's interest, and so I am to present you at the midwinter Gathering.**

**_Abia aştept să te văd_ **

He couldn't wait to see her. Nadia clenched her teeth. She wasn't his "sweet" and would have lived content for eternity not to see Alexandru Brancovan again.

She tossed the letter to Costi. "What do you think?"

His eyes flickered over parchment. "You should have answered one or two of Brancovan's letters over the years."

"I read them. That was more than he deserved."

Costi shrugged. "He was aristocracy when Bucharest was petit-Paris. His kind expects deference and obedience. If you do not go—"

"I will attend the Gathering," she said. "But only this once.  _Father_ will have to find other ways to gain notice from Council members." Nadia took the self-inking quill Costi conjured and wrote a short reply. He would seal and send it for her. She rose to her feet.

"Before Christmas, you never wore a cloak," Costi said as she took the garment off a peg by the door.

"Before Christmas I didn't have a friend who worries I will be cold."

Costi's expression was such that if he had eyebrows, one of them would have raised. "Do you plan to keep him warm with  _tsuica_?"

Nadia glanced down at the bottle of brandy in her hand. "To me, this is decoration. If I cannot drink it, why should I not share?" She turned it upside down and watched the apple bob. "Charlie could not picture farmers hanging bottles for fruit to grow inside, so I said when the trees bud I will take him to see for himself." She saw Costi's mouth open and left to avoid uncomfortable questions. Nadia did not know if her keeper friend would still desire to meet with her when the seasons changed. She hoped he would.

She Apparated to the Centre and checked the daily log. Aside from a single entry that mentioned something out of the ordinary, daily patrols had been uneventful and the temperature of the Warming Sands remained stable. Her eyes returned to the entry that caught her attention.

**On morning patrol, I spotted a Longhorn scale on a ridge just above the tree line.**

The initials of the keeper were C.W. Nadia closed the book.

She exited the centre to Apparate behind Charlie's house. Through the opened curtains, she could see his room was empty. She used a Disillusionment Charm and moved closer.

That first night, she had accepted his invitation only to be given another one: if she didn't mind the conversation taking place somewhere private—his room—Charlie would welcome the chance to talk to her the next evening. Nadia had agreed to return and continued to find him waiting every night afterward.

She feared his absence meant something was wrong.

Nadia placed her hand on the window to force it open just as Charlie entered the room. He wore a dark green towelling dressing gown, and his hair was damp and mussed. She froze when he glanced toward the window.

"No kitty cat," she heard him say, as if she stood beside him. "Good. I won't have to change in the bathroom. Emil already thinks I'm loony for taking two showers in one night."

Nadia leaned forward. She could see the end of a chrome dumbbell beneath a chair. Had he lifted weights to need the second shower?

Her gaze returned to Charlie. He was hanging his robe on a hook inside the wardrobe. He had a strong, sculpted back. Nadia's eyes lowered. The rest of his body was taut and muscular, too.

She blinked when her nose touched glass.

_La dracu! Damn it! If I had breath, would I fog the window?_

Nadia shifted as she sprang backwards. She landed on all fours as a cat and jumped onto the windowsill. Thankfully, Charlie had pulled on trousers by the time she mewed to announce her presence.

He rushed over to open the sash. "Come in. I was—erm—dressing."

She was at eye level with his chest. It was freckled and smooth, and the cold had hardened intriguing points of his anatomy. She leapt to the floor.

Charlie crouched down to pet her. "You have the softest fur."

Instinct took over. She angled her head to rub her cheek against his hand.

He responded by scratching behind her ear, a very sensitive area. Her eyes closed.

"Wow. You can purr like a real cat."

Yes, and next she would be rubbing against his legs to mark him as hers. She shifted form. "Good evening," she said.

_"Buna seara,"_ Charlie replied with a smile.

Her eyes weren't level with his chest anymore, but they were still drawn to it.

Charlie glanced down. "I should put a shirt on." He found a rust-coloured tee in the wardrobe.

"You wear the colours of the earth," she said. "They suit you."

"It's the red hair. I have to go for what doesn't clash."

"The ends are wet," she said. In the next instant, Nadia stood in front of Charlie, running her fingers through his hair as she murmured a drying spell. The fiery strands reminded her of sunset.

"Thanks."

She could hear his heart pound; feel the heat of the slight flush that rose from his chest to his face. His lips parted slightly. She could smell mint. "I brought you  _tsuica cu fruct,"_ she said, and removed the brandy from the pocket of her cloak.

"There's an apple inside. Cool." He upended the bottle the way she had to watch the fruit bob up and down. "What's this?" he asked, brushing the neck of the bottle with a fingertip. "Cat hair?"

"Are you implying I shed?"

He grinned. "Yes. I was having you on."

Nadia feigned a thoughtful expression. "It could be true. Perhaps we should experiment to find out. Do you have a white jumper? What colour are the sheets on your bed? I could roll around—" The vision forming in her mind halted her attempt to tease. It did not involve a cat.

"It'd be hard to explain black hairs on my pillow when it's my housemate's turn to clean," Charlie said, his mild tone a contrast to the heat in his eyes.

"Do your own laundry." The words were husky instead of joking, the way she meant them to sound.

She could hear his pulse speed up again. Nadia cast about for a distraction. "The Longhorn scale," she said. "You—did you retrieve it?"

He stared blankly at her for a couple of seconds. "Uh...no. I made a note and then continued to patrol."

"Do you remember where you saw the scale?"

Charlie rattled off a list of landmarks that were remarkably precise.

"Thank you." She turned to leave.

"I'll go with you," he said.

Nadia wanted to flee temptation, not bring it with her. " _Nu_. Stay out of the cold. I should find the scale easily."

He had already taken a cloak out of the wardrobe and fished a hat and gloves from the pockets. "Spells and dragon hide will keep me warm," he said. A gleam lit brown eyes. "Along with my thoughts."

She instantly remembered a Chinese proverb.

**A full stomach and warm clothing leave one free for lustful thoughts.**

Nadia stalked to the window.  _I read too much. I should take up woodcarving._ "Fine," she said. "Show me." She lifted the sash and dove through the opening. When her hands hit the snowy ground, she pushed through her fingers and kicked her legs to rotate and land on her feet.

Charlie's chuckle drifted through the air. "If we're playing follow the leader, I'm out." He climbed over the sill and dropped to the ground.

"Outside?  _Da_ , you are," she said. "And you may follow me to the broom shed."

He shut the window and muttered a night vision spell. "I'd rather walk beside you."

Her insides fluttered again. Was there such a thing as undead butterflies? She gestured away from the direct route through the cottages, towards the path that would allow them to walk without need for Disillusionment Charms. "Along the edge of the forest?"

"That's why I'm wearing tall boots."

She cast spells to distribute their weight. "We will not sink into the snow."

He took a step and gave a bark of laughter. "Ace."

Nadia put a hand on Charlie's arm to remain steady as she walked beside him. She had not walked on snow since she became  _strigoi_. It was easier to fly. "Ace is good?" she asked, although the context of the word implied that it was. She simply liked to hear his voice.

"It means great, excellent—brilliant."

She slanted a look at him. "All that in three letters?"

" _Da_."

They shared a smile that caused more unnervingly delightful sensations to course through Nadia's body. She glimpsed the broom shed with a mixture of frustration and relief. She said, "One of the reasons I enjoyed night watch was flying the latest model broomsticks. On day patrol, new keepers were relegated to the older ones."

"That hasn't changed," Charlie said. He countered the wards on the shed and retrieved a broom. "This is the Comet Two Sixty. I've flown it twice, and I can't begin to describe—here." He balanced the weight on his palms and held out the broomstick. "Want to fly it?"

"With you?" She shrugged with feigned carelessness. "Is probably better. I have not flown that way in a long while."

"Oh yeah." Charlie nodded earnestly. "Is probably—I mean it's probably—better. Safer." He straddled the broom and waited for her to mount behind him to push into a vertical lift.

When the broomstick shot forward, she clutched the sides of his cloak, another habit from days gone by.

"Too fast?" he called over his shoulder.

She leaned closer. "Depends. How good is your night vision?"

"Ace!"

"Then go faster!"

"All right!" He made the broomstick live up to its name as they streaked towards their destination.

At the spot he'd described above the line of evergreens, Charlie set down the broom and waited for her to dismount before doing the same. He pointed to the ground beside a pile of snow-covered rock. "It should be right there. Large, flat, teardrop-shaped, dark green: it was a Longhorn scale, I'd swear it."

"I do not doubt you." Nadia knelt to examine the ground. It looked windswept. She said, "I need an aerial view."

Charlie mounted his broom. "Hop on."

" _Nu_. Follow me." Nadia jumped from the ground into the air, magic catapulting her upward. She lifted her arms into an upstroke position and completed the seamless transition from launch to flight.

The Comet Two Sixty vaulted Charlie skyward at an impressive rate of speed. "I'd rather fly beside you," he said, voice amplified by Sonorous Charm.

A smile played across her lips while Nadia hovered to scan the landscape.

"What are we looking for?" Charlie was close enough to speak normally.

"Tracks," she said. "Wind did not carry the scale away."

"You think it was an animal?"

Nadia looked into eyes that shone gold in the moonlight and decided to trust. She said, "In a manner of speaking."


	3. Discoveries

 

"A werewolf?" Charlie asked. He glanced up at the waxing moon. In DADA, Professor Kessler had taught that modern werewolves gravitated to cities because they were dependant on Ministry benefits for survival. It was unsettling to learn one could be living near the research centre.

" _Da_." Nadia looked across the snow one last time and then dropped her arms and plummeted downward.

He changed the hover spell to free fall and held on tight as the broomstick dropped like a stone. "Whoo-hoo!" Charlie shouted. He heard Nadia laugh and laughed with her. When his feet touched the ground, however, he came down to earth mentally as well as physically. "Wait a minute," he said. "If there are no tracks, how do you know it was a werewolf?"

"Intuition."

"You have the Sight?"

" _Nu._ I have a long acquaintance with Yoska Vasile."

Charlie tried not to jump to conclusions. Would Nadia visit every night if she was involved with someone else? "Who is he?"

"Rom and werewolf."

"And this Vasile steals dragon scales to—what—sell them on the black market?" Dragons weren't like other reptiles. Their scales grew and renewed like human skin and nails. It took illness or physical combat for a dragon to lose scales. The rareness of such occasions made powdered dragon scale extremely valuable.

"To feed his family," she said sharply. "Wizard or Muggle, the Roma cannot work when employers will not hire  _dirty gypsies,_ and once a Rom becomes werewolf, it is worse. He must beg in the streets or find another way to survive."

"Stealing."

"In Romany, there is no word for 'possess,' but this is the first time Yoska has taken a scale in twenty years," Nadia said. "Something must be wrong for him not to wait."

"Wait for what?" He read her face and immediately answered his own question. "You give him dragon scales."

"Da, at the beginning of each season, and in return he and his sons patrol the forest and send word to Costi if any trespassers wait for darkness to take fang, claw, scale, or hide. Dimitrie knows," she said, "As Head Keeper, it is in his interest to protect the dragons in every way."

Charlie shook his head.

"You doubt my word?" Nadia asked coolly.

"No," he said. "I can't believe I never wondered why there wasn't a night patrol, or why poachers have never been an issue. I've had blinders on."

"No more than anyone else. Dimitrie says is better that way. Less paperwork."

The corners of her lips quirked upward. Charlie found her smile as attractive as her accent. "It's better," he said absently, distracted by the way her eyes glowed scarlet to match her lips, thinking that was oddly attractive too.

She looked at him questioningly.

He said, "You said, 'is better' instead of 'it is,' or 'it's.''"

"I do this often?"

Charlie almost groaned. Merlin, what was he doing acting like Percy and correcting her English? "It's okay," he said. "I knew what you meant."

In the blink of an eye, she closed the distance between them. "Say that word again."

"What word?"

"The funny one, the—how you say—contraction?"

"Oh, 'it's'?"

" _Da_. Say it again. I want to watch your mouth."

The bottom dropped out of Charlie's stomach in a way it hadn't during the earlier free fall. She wanted to watch  _his mouth?_ It didn't matter that Nadia meant it in a non-sexual way. His heart still jumped into his throat. He swallowed hard. "It's."

She echoed him and then said, "It's better, yes?"

"Da."

A searching look followed Nadia's brief smile. "Do you wish to go with me to speak with Yoska?" she asked. "The dragons will wait, but I need to know why my old friend broke our agreement." Her expression tightened. "And to ensure he does not do such a thing again."

Charlie nodded. "Do we fly?"

"Apparate."

He shrank his broom to stow in a pocket and curled his fingers around her forearm. Charlie tightened his hold as everything went black. Extreme pressure on all sides forced out his breath and squeezed his body until—

He suddenly breathed cold air that burned his lungs in a way he never appreciated before Apparating in winter. Nadia hadn't been affected by their travel, but he was sucking in air like a beached fish. Charlie wiped blurry eyes and then realised that he and Nadia stood inside a forest clearing occupied by a ring of covered wagons: a gypsy camp. He released his grip on her arm and followed her toward the central campfire.

The three men who stood talking broke off their conversation when Charlie and Nadia came into sight. The leader, a man with grey hair and a thin, lined face, greeted them with a solemn nod. " _Sastimos_."

" _Sastimos_ ," Nadia replied. "And I hope that all is well for your family also."

" _Arvah_ , yes, they are in good health." He spoke in English, the way Nadia had. After a curious glance at Charlie, he gestured to one of the wagons. "I will call Simza—"

" _Nu_. We have a matter to discuss." Nadia gestured to Charlie. "This is Charlie Weasley, a keeper at the centre. He spotted a Longhorn scale on a low ridge this morning, and by night it was gone without a trace." She asked in a low voice, "Why have you broken our pact, Yoska?"

Charlie watched sweat break out on the man's swarthy brow. "I had to. Marko came last night. He needed the  _sonkai_ —the gold—powdered scales would bring."

"He threatened to rip them from a dragon if he had to," one of the other men said.

Yoska turned on him. "Silence, Iulian!"

"No, Father. You say everybody has to eat a loaf. What will our families eat now that Marko has taken the scales?"

"Nadia will help us," the third speaker said.

From the way his voice cracked and went squeaky, this Vasile son was at least a dozen years younger than his brother Iulian. On a hunch, Charlie asked, "Did you leave the scale on the ridge on purpose?"

"Yes." The boy turned to Nadia. "I knew it would be found, and you would come."

"There is nothing she can do, Nicu," Yoska said. "Marko and the scales are gone."

Charlie said, "For now. What's to stop him from coming back?" He didn't want anyone who threatened dragons anywhere near their caves.

"Nadia will!" Nicu's face glowed with admiration. "Our  _martiya_ will hunt down the  _shimulo_."

Yoska's face darkened. "Do not speak of your brother that way!"

Iulian put his arm around Nicu. "He is right. Marko is  _marhime_ —impure. He should pay the consequences, not us."

Charlie saw Nadia flinch at the word "impure." She said, "You will not go hungry. If I gather no more scales before spring, Costi will bring payment in gold."

Nicu's face lit up. " _Nais tuke!"_

"I add my thanks," Iulian said.

"Yoska's troubled expression didn't lighten. "And Marko?"

Charlie arched a brow when Nadia glanced his way. He wanted to hear her answer. The safety of every dragon was of paramount concern.

Nadia held his gaze while she said, "The  _strigoi_ hold a midwinter Gathering. I will go and tell the Council what has occurred."

"The Council? Is that like the Rom court?" Nicu flinched as his father barked something harsh in Romany.

"There is no disrespect in curiosity," Nadia said. She told the boy gently, "I am unfamiliar with either, but this I know: Marko will be held accountable by a council of elders."

Nicu's wide eyes were bright with interest. "Do you think  _strigoi_ elders are as old and wrinkled as Roma?"

"I cannot say," Nadia said with a hint of a smile. "But I promise to let you know on my return."

Yoska exhaled heavily. "Will Marko be punished?"

Charlie stood close enough to notice Nadia hesitate.

"Again, I cannot say," she said.

It was clear from Yoska's dejected posture that he didn't expect Marko to escape reprisal. Tonelessly, he said, "So be it."

" _Zhan le Devlesa tai sastimasa_ ," said Nicu.

Iulian inclined his head. "Yes, go with God and in good health. Both of you."

"Thanks," said Charlie. This wasn't a "it's been nice to meet you" moment. Any pleasantry would be out of place. He placed his hand on Nadia's forearm in preparation for Side-Along Apparation.

That time, he braced for the shock and merely gulped in a few deep breaths to recover. He saw that Nadia had brought them to the area behind his house. Smooth fingertips that were cool, yet not icy, brushed his cheek.

"You are cold. You wish to go inside?"

Charlie shook his head. "Tell me about Marko Vasile."

"He is Yoska's son from his first marriage. Twenty years ago he helped his father steal scales, and then to patrol the forest."

"Is he a Dark werewolf?"

" _Nu_. He is impure—cast out—because he is  _shimulo_ , the walking dead."

That was why she had flinched. Charlie said, "Nicu called you  _martiya—"_

"Spirit of the night, since I do not take the blood of humans."

"Then you didn't..."

"Turn Marko?  _Nu._ He asked, and when I refused, he left to find a less _selfish_ lover," she said frankly. "After that, I avoided...entanglements."

Charlie didn't blame her. Marko had accused Nadia of selfishness when he was the one using his family—his lover—for his own ends. He nodded sympathetically even as he thought,  _she said avoided. Past tense._

"Will you tell Dimitrie?"

It took a second for the question to register. He'd been wondering what kind of "entanglement" she considered him. Charlie said, "Not unless I have to."  _If Marko returns._

"I understand."

They stared at each other in the kind of silence that reminded him of the end of first dates, and the inevitable decision to make: move in for a kiss or say goodnight and try some other time. Not that he would try anything with Nadia—Charlie wasn't comfortable enough yet, and she had the ex-boyfriend situation to deal with, but after the midwinter Gathering . . . .

"Your housemate just knocked on your door," Nadia said.

He strained his ears and heard nothing. "Guess I'd better go in, then. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Charlie was climbing through the open window when he heard,

"Should—should I visit tomorrow evening?"

He almost broke his neck scrambling into the room in order to lean his head right back out the window. "Yeah!"

She smiled and Apparated.

He smiled and then groaned. He'd forgotten to return his broom to the shed! Charlie climbed over the sill and dropped to the ground, closing the window once again before taking the direct route through the cottages.

After returning the broomstick to the shed, he didn't bother trying to sneak into the house. He went in through the front door, hung up his outerwear, and headed straight for the kitchen.

Emil sat at the table, reading a book. Beside his elbow was a plate with crumbs on it. As usual, he had finished his sandwich and kept reading, too engrossed to move to a more comfortable chair in the lounge. Only the tip of his long nose was visible through the hair hanging into his face. "I thought you were asleep," he mumbled, as Charlie made a batch of hot chocolate.

"I went on a broom ride."

"How was it?"

Charlie had to laugh. "Eye-opening."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The side-along Apparation was patterned on Harry's experience in HBP, ch 4. For anyone who's seen An American Werewolf in London, yes, I named Professor Kessler for the lead character, David, and I'm sure at he told Charlie's class at least once, "Beware the moon." :D


	4. Gathering

 

On the night of the midwinter Gathering, Nadia took her time getting dressed. It wasn't out of vanity. She was delaying the inevitable.

Costi looked up with a smile when she entered the kitchen. "You need me to put up your hair?"

"Not tonight." Alexandru's descriptions in his letters had painted vivid pictures of glamour, lavish excess and a never-ending competition for status. She wanted to be different.

"Select your jewellery?"

Nadia shook her head. The strapless black gown would enhance her testimony to the council: simplicity without embellishment.

Costi held out his hand. A white lily appeared. "Let me pin a flower in your hair, at least. A small thing."

"All right." Lilies symbolised purity and majesty. She was far from virginal, but perhaps the flower would help her speak with directness and authority. "Thank you, my friend."

"You is most welcome."

She said good night and Apparated, not to Bucharest, but to the research centre. Charlie stood at his window, waiting. A thrill went through Nadia at the look on his face and the haste with which he opened the sash to climb out to speak with her.

"You're beautiful," he said. "I've never seen ribbon used like that before. It's—" Charlie trailed his fingers over satin bands that crisscrossed her upper arm down to her wrist. "It's pretty."

His fingertips had barely grazed her skin, yet she shivered. "Thank you for the compliment, and for taking my patrol."

"No problem. We'll—uh—trade reports when you get back. Just knock on the window."

"If you leave it unwarded I can slip inside," she said. "Wake you gently."

Charlie's pulse spiked. She could hear it.

Nadia was torn. Part of her wanted to pretend she hadn't meant to be suggestive, to say something to diffuse the tension. The rest of her was too busy staring at his parted lips. She licked hers. The heat pouring off Charlie's body was incredible. That must be why her mouth was so dry. It wasn't the idea of kissing him awake. She gathered scattered thoughts and said, "If that is what you desire."

"I—yeah."

She was unable to resist teasing a little more. "If you do not wake when I call your name, may I touch you?"

"Like this?" His palm cupped her shoulder.

The contrast of his tanned skin against her fairness mesmerised Nadia. How many hours had he spent in the sun to earn those freckles? Did he realise how attractive they were?

"I didn't know vampires could blush," Charlie said.

She lifted a hand to her flushed cheek. She gazed at him in wonder. "You did this to me."

Something flared in his eyes that sparked an answering hunger. Nadia moved away. Right now, Charlie Weasley was a temptation she could not afford. "I must go."

"Stay safe," he said.

The genuine concern in his voice burned away her resolve. She closed the distance between them and brushed his mouth with hers. "For luck," she said, and Apparated.

She travelled only as far as the ridge where Charlie had seen the Longhorn scale. If Nadia had tried to Apparate any further, she would have splinched. It was too hard to concentrate. His lips had been firm and supple, parting hers for a tantalising instant before she drew back. She closed her eyes to relive the kiss.

_Charlie . . . ._

Her sigh broke the reverie. This was not the time for self-indulgence. She had important matters to attend. Nadia bent to scoop up a handful of snow.  _My thoughts must be cold and clear. I am a dragon keeper, charged to protect, a strigoi, demanding justice._

She looked toward the forest and the cottage on the other side.  _Later, I will be a woman._

The snow trickled from her fingers as she concentrated on visualising the home she hadn't entered of her own free will in half a century. How ironic that she must yearn to be there with every fibre of her being in order to Apparate. Nadia's lips twisted as magic flared.

There was nothingness, and then she was standing on pavement in front of a mansion with wrought iron balconies and tall, arched windows.

Behind her, a man said, "I considered making it Unplottable like the House of Elders, but in the end could not deprive the world of such beauty."

The voice was facetious—and instantly recognisable. Nadia "heard" it every time she read one of his letters. She replied, "You could not deprive yourself of what you live for—the admiration of others."

"True." In a blur of motion, Alexandru stood before her, deceptively youthful and handsome. "And I wanted you to always be able to find your way home."

Nadia bit back the retort that this wasn't her home, and he was no true father. "Have you been waiting in the cold for me? How flattering."

Bright blue eyes danced with amusement. "I went for a stroll. It would be ill-mannered not to feed before a Gathering."

"What? You have no human companion? It's so unlike you not to follow fashion."

Alexandru opened the front doors with a wave of his hand. "Human women have a tendency to expect monogamy—not my idea of eternal bliss. Unless Jakab finds a partner willing to donate a pint from time to time, and I acquire another human servant, this will remain a bachelor household." His eyes flickered over her. "If you require sustenance..."

"No," she said harshly. Nadia marched into the entrance hall lined with gold-veined marble and mirrors.  _I will not think of the past, I will not think of the past._

"Still dragon blood only, is it? How often do you—"

"None of your concern!" She regained poise and asked, "Is that what you are wearing tonight?" His hand-tailored suit was stylish, yet far from proper attire. He would never wear it to a Gathering. She enquired only to repay Alexandru for the intrusive questions.

He arched a blond brow. "I was about to ask the same of you."

"My gown is appropriate."

"For a funeral, perhaps, although the ribbons give the impression of a very merry widow—no offence to your house-elf."

Costi had added the ribbons to "soften" her design. Nadia ended the conversation by walking into the drawing room located off a short corridor to the left of the double stairs. "You should dress," she said over her shoulder. "I wish to be punctual."

"We will be. I gave you the wrong time in order to talk."

She went to stand beside the fireplace fashioned to complement the home's Art Nouveau style, with ceramic tiles of lotus leaves decorating a cast-iron surround. "About my audience with the Council?"

"About my letters. You read them all?"

"Yes."

"Did you consider throwing them away unopened?"

"Every time."

"And after reading, did you ever feel an urge to return my correspondence, this last month in particular?"

She shrugged.

"I must know," he said.

Realisation dawned. "You used Compulsion Charms!"

"Twice, to be exact, which you resisted." Alexandru grinned boyishly, although it had been a hundred years since his eighteenth birthday. "Words cannot express my delight."

"They were a source of information, like newspapers, nothing more," she said. "I did not read them because I harbour any trace of affection for you."

"But you did read them."

Nadia looked at him warily. "That pleases you. Why?"

He took her hands, his wistful expression belied by the impish twinkle in his eye. "No father wants his child to hate him."

"You are not my father."

"Semantics." Alexandru's hands tightened around hers. "My blood is in your veins, I am the reason you live."

"Live? I do not breathe! I exist!" If she did not need his aid in dealing with the Council, Nadia would have transformed her nails into claws and made him bleed.

"You think and feel. That is the truest measure of life. Embrace it."

She shook her head. Alexandru would never understand how much he had taken from her: family, friends, sunshine, growing old. He was enthralled with being  _strigoi_. "Why did you mention me to Luchian?" she asked. "It had to have been deliberate. What do you want from me?"

He released her hands. "I could say I missed you, but time is short so I will be frank: I need what you have, the ability to resist the compulsive charms of Catrinca Dinu." Alexandru saw her surprise and asked, "Did you think I cast the spells on those letters? No, I begged sweetly, until the one who made me what I am graciously conceded the favour." He smiled a little. "Why do you think I spoke so highly of her?"

"Catrinca is an elder, your patroness." Nadia refused to say mother; the term would be incestuous. "She is a member of the Council."

"She read the letters before performing the charms." He smirked. "Not the last one. I told her the spells worked their magic, so there was no further need for her  _assistance_."

"What if she had asked to see my letter?"

"That would never have happened. You are beyond her realm of control and therefore of no interest."

"Unlike you."

"Yes. Fair Catrinca is determined to keep me off the Council and under her thumb. So far, she has been successful." Alexandru's expression hardened. "That will change when I share the resistance to spells you gained from dragons' blood."

It was true that, like giants, dragons had a natural resistance to magic. It took the strongest spells, or a battery of them to be effective. To think blood transferred that resistance. "No."

"Yes." Alexandru's face was as finely sculpted and as pitiless as a statue's. "A blood debt is owed. You must repay."

She stood transfixed, unable to deny the truth. When faced with death, she chose to be  _strigoi._ Afterwards, however, she had violently refused to drink the blood of humans. It was shaming to remember her lack of self-control, how she wept over her lost mortality, cursed and pleaded for Alexandru to share his blood. He had kept her alive, and helped her through the first traumatic weeks following the change.

"Take it," she said.

Nadia tried to clear her thoughts. It was no use. The scrape of Alexandru's teeth filled her mind with images she'd repressed since a fateful night in December, fifty years ago.

_A body lying at the edge of the cave...the Horntail fallen on its side, stunned... Nadia dropped to her knees to assess the man's injuries. He was bleeding from a gaping shoulder wound. She immediately cast a direct pressure spell. The man was either a poacher or a thrill-seeker who wanted to see a Horntail and got spiked. She checked for consciousness and realised the victim was not breathing. Nadia bent over him to resuscitate. With unnatural swiftness, he grabbed her and bit her neck._

"Shhh... It is done. Shhh..."

Nadia stared blankly, and then regained her sense of place and time. She had put a hand up to her cheek and felt the wetness. She turned away. "You should change."

"There is such a thing as fashionable lateness," Alexandru said. "You will find an appropriate gown upstairs, in the first bedroom to the right."

"No."

"Yes, unless you wish to be a matching pair like Catrinca and her latest consort. My dress robes are black."

She personally did not care. Since he obviously did, and had approached the Council on her behalf after she’d explained the situation with Marko, Nadia said, "Very well."

The long, flowing white gown set out for her had a heart-shaped bodice with a medieval point and black lace inset. Black ribbon edged the layers of skirt and the ruffled cuffs of the shoulder-baring trumpet sleeves. A white rose cameo set in silver on a black lace choker lay beside the gown. Nadia undid the bow at her wrist and let the ribbon unwind.

She returned downstairs to find Jakab waiting in the entrance hall. Dressed like a butler, he still reminded her of a circus strongman, bald, with a bushy moustache. A human servant, he was bound to his master and shared his agelessness. He looked no older than the last time she had seen him.

Jakab bowed. "It is good to see you again, Miss Nadia."

"And you as well. Do you still cultivate orchids?"

He appeared pleased that she remembered. "Yes, Miss Nadia."

Alexandru strolled into the hall, elegant in robes with a mandarin collar and black, cloth-covered buttons. "You transfigured the lily into a rose. Excellent. It completes the vision of loveliness."

"You wear no rings," she said. Alexandru always wore at least two rings. He enjoyed showing off his inherited wealth.

"Tonight my peahen shall shine," he said lightly. He accepted a pair of gloves from Jakab and tugged them on.

If he was toning down his peacock ways to impress upon the Council his seriousness, it was an excellent strategy—the exact same one she had intended to use. Nadia said, "Others will glitter more brightly."

"Exactly. We will turn heads with the beauty of our simplicity."

She dismissed his words as conceit until they entered the ballroom of the palatial estate hidden within the city's mansion district. Heads did turn.  _Strigoi_  dressed in finery that rivalled the opulence of the mirrored walls and frescoed ceiling, wearing jewels that out-sparkled the crystal in the candle-lit chandeliers, all hushed their conversations. The lively sound of a string quartet rang out clearly until overshadowed once more by the rumble of voices.

"They are shocked you are dressed so plainly?" Nadia said as Alexandru led her toward a group clustered at the centre.

"Surprised to see a woman on my arm. I usually select a companion for the evening  _after_ I arrive, not before."

"What do you do? Hold an audition?"

"Of sorts."

When they drew near to the elder Nadia had only read about in letters, she saw Alexandru begin to bow and held her skirts in order to perform a curtsey. Luchian left his group of courtiers.

"Charming." Tall and imposing, the highest-ranking elder's faint smile did not reach the dark eyes boring into hers. "Why have you never graced us with your presence before this Gathering?" There was power in his deep voice that compelled the truth.

She said, "No  _strigoi_  ever threatened the safety of dragons."

"Ah, yes, the matter of dragons. The Council will not reverse its decision at this time, but I assure you, we regard dragons highly." He kissed her hand and resumed his place in the centre of the parquet floor, holding court.

Nadia's eyes flew to Alexandru.

He said, "Not here."

She glanced around. On all sides, the curious were watching, listening. She nodded tightly.

Alexandru escorted her to an antechamber off the ballroom and shut the door. "I did not lie," he said. "I approached the Council on your behalf. They denied your audience on the basis of a councilmember's claim that the threats were hearsay, and warranted no action."

"Which councilmember?"

"Catrinca Dinu. Marko Vasile is her consort."

Nadia shook with anger. "You used me."

"I am also giving you the opportunity to make the best out of it."

"How?"

"Warn Vasile—in front of witnesses—that if he trespasses again with intent to harm, he will face the consequences. That way, if he returns, you will have the right to drag him before the Council and demand trial." Alexandru smiled in a way that showed his canines had elongated. "I will be on the Council, and I will ensure justice is meted out in full measure."

All she wanted was the opportunity to warn Marko away from the dragons. "All right," she said, "Take me to him."

Alexandru led her to a corner of the ballroom, where a dainty blonde woman in a crimson satin gown lounged on a settee with a swarthy man dressed in matching velvet robes. The couple, surrounded by admirers, "fed" each other from a crystal goblet and made a show of licking the blood from each other's lips.

"Disgusting, are they not?" Alexandru said softly. "At least you have the consolation that you were ignorant of your lover's true nature. I knew Catrinca was a horror."

"Who is that I hear whispering? Come forward!" Catrinca Dinu's voice was shrill and arrogant.

Nadia squared her shoulders.

 

An hour later, she stood beside Charlie's bed, drinking in the scent of shampoo and soap and warm, masculine skin. He smelled so clean. The scene with Catrinca and Marko left her feeling polluted; she'd stood outside the cottage for long minutes, wishing the blowing snow could numb her raw emotions.

Nadia sat on the edge of the mattress and called Charlie's name. He didn't hear: her voice was only a breath of sound. She placed a hand on his shoulder.

Slowly, his eyes opened. He smiled. "Is this a dream?"

Alexandru's words echoed in her mind.

_You think and feel. That is the truest measure of life. Embrace it._

Nadia bent to kiss Charlie.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Although she's a vampire and not a fairy, :D, I've used the work of Nene Thomas as inspiration for Nadia: two paintings in particular this chapter, Dark Skies and Queen of Owls. Anyone interested can Google and see the dresses for themselves. Vampire lore varies widely, but if magic animates and produces the body fluids necessary for the seduction of prey or lovers, it can bring a blush to a cheek and tears to the eyes, too. On a random note, while at the same time "hearing" a string quartet at the Gathering, I had the chorus of Rob Zombie's Living Dead Girl playing in my head. Classic, yet alternative, that's vampires for you. For everyone who wondered how Nadia became a vampire, now you know. :)


	5. Friends

 

The kiss was more incredible than he'd imagined, and Charlie had spent a lot of time thinking about what kissing Nadia would feel like. Her lips were cool and soft, moving against his in slow, drugging kisses. When she ran the tip of her tongue along the inside of his bottom lip, every muscle tensed. He'd never realised how sensitive nerve endings were inside the mouth. His body grew heavy as her tongue teased and stroked.

He cupped her cheek and then slid his fingers into her hair. It took a moment for his passion-fogged brain to register an unexpected sensation. "It's wet," he said.

"Kisses usually are."

Charlie smiled as he rubbed dark strands between his fingers. "I meant your hair."

Nadia froze for a split-second, and then eased away to cast a spell. "I forgot to dry it," she said.

He sat up and looked toward the window. Wet snow mounded on the sill and left frosty tracks on the panes. Something was wrong for her to have stood outside long enough to soak her hair. He murmured a charm to brighten the illumination orbs in the room and see her face clearly. "Why didn't you come inside right away?"

The corners of her mouth turned down. "My news is not good."

He wanted to put his arms around her, but settled for placing his hand on her shoulder. "Tell me what happened."

"I changed my dress in the hope I would impress the Council." Nadia toyed with the end of a ruffled sleeve.

It took a lot of willpower not to stare at the creamy skin displayed by the low neckline. "It's a beautiful dress," he said, "but I'd think what you had to say was more important than what you wore."

"I never got to speak. Although the Council  _regards dragons highly_ , they decided Marko's threats  _warranted no action._ "

Charlie could tell by the way she stressed certain phrases that Nadia was quoting and bitterly upset. He rubbed her shoulder in light circles, trying to comfort. "What did you do?"

"I confronted Marko." She placed a hand over his. "I told him Yoska and the others are my people now, not his, and if he returns, I will defend them—and the dragons—and bring him to justice before the Council."

She spoke forcefully, but avoided looking at him directly. It gave Charlie a sinking feeling. He asked, "What did he say?"

"Nothing." Her lips twisted. "He laughed. They all did, and then...carried on...as if I had never spoken."

"I'm sorry."

Her eyes met his. They were shiny with tears. "Those  _strigoi_  care only for power, for selfish pleasure," she whispered. "I am nothing like them. Believe me."

"I do." Charlie kissed Nadia in case she needed convincing. He kept kissing her because her arms curled around his neck and her body melted into his and he was lost. Heat poured through his veins as the sensuality of the kiss escalated. His hands traced the arc of her back.

Her lips grazed his cheek. "Not that pleasure is a bad thing," she murmured, "when there is give and take."

Charlie's body was ready to give anything and everything. His brain held desire in check. Their relationship was too new.

That didn't stop his fingers from itching to discover if Nadia's dress had a zipper.

Her mouth brushed his. "It is a great pleasure to kiss you."

He bit back a groan. It was hard to cool off when even her voice was sexy. "It's my pleasure, too," he said, and then had to ask, "The way you talk. Is that part of vampire Glamour?"

" _Nu_ , Glamour is a wives' tale, I think."

"That's not what I learned in Defence Against the Dark Arts."

Nadia smiled a little. "Are you asking me to bewitch you?"

"You don't need Glamour for that," Charlie said. "I'm just curious. You don't have to—"

"I will try." She stood and walked over to the window. "You are asleep," she said, "and I am outside. The window is locked, and I want you to let me in."

He closed his eyes to go along with the pretence.

"I have not used Glamour before." Nadia's tone was softer now, trance-like. "I do not know a spell to summon it. I can only listen to the beat of your heart and long to feel your warmth. I am so cold; I cannot speak. I can only yearn."

_Come to me, Charlie . . . come to me . . . ._

He heard her voice in his mind, alluring as a siren's song. He climbed out of bed.

_Charlie, I need you._

He was so wrapped up in the beauty of her voice, Charlie didn't realise he had crossed the room until he was staring down into eyes that glowed like rubies.

_Rubies?_

Charlie didn't know if the thought was his or Nadia's. Wherever it came from, it broke the spell and left him feeling embarrassed for sleeping in underwear instead of pyjama bottoms. He said, "I guess Professor Kessler knew what he was talking about."

" _Da_ , and I have not used Glamour before." Her eyes travelled over him. "If you forget to unlatch the window, I might be...tempted...to use it again."

_Charlie, make love to me._ The scene was temptingly easy to imagine. "I won't forget," he said. He’d keep away from the window to make sure he didn’t lock it “accidentally.”

She kissed his cheek. "Then I will see you tonight."

"Wait!" he said. "I forgot. A few of the keepers are hosting French versus Romanian wine tasting at the centre."

"You have plans. Very well. Another night, perhaps."

"No! I want to see you." Charlie made a face. "I like to drink wine, not spit it out, but if I don't go, Emil said he'd tell the Healer I'm suffering from Seasonal Affective Disorder—whatever the Hades that is—and I'll be taken off the patrol roster until I prove I'm not."

"I could visit after midnight."

"Ace!" he said before she changed her mind.

The kiss she gave him sent Charlie out of his room and into a cold shower. He came back to find a note on the bed.

**I returned to ask about the night patrol, but you were unavailable. I will trust that all was well and document the log accordingly.**

**Noapte buna,**

**Nadia**

She had elegant handwriting. He placed the note in a desk drawer and cast a ward.  _Unavailable...does that mean she heard me singing in the shower? At least it was the Cannons' running out tune and not something embarrassing._

There were loads of wizard rock songs about girls. Charlie had always cared for music over words, but over the last few weeks he'd begun to appreciate lyrics more. He identified with them.

 

In the morning, after a heated dream and one of the quickest, coldest showers his teeth had ever chattered through, Charlie dressed and headed for the kitchen. There was a cup of tea on the table, freshly poured by the amount of steam. "Thanks, Emil."

His friend turned from the cooker, spatula in hand. "That was mine." He pointed to an enormous omelette in its pan. "This I  _was_ going to share."

"I'll make you another cup." Charlie carried his pilfered drink with him to the counter, where the kettle and a tin sat ready. He whistled the Cannons' tune in between sips of hot, sugary tea.

Emil divided the omelette and brought the plates to the table along with a couple of forks. He accepted a mug with a speculative look. "Two cups of tea for you this morning. The water must have been freezing."

"I had to towel off icicles." Charlie used the side of his fork to cut into the  _omleta cu sunca si cascaval_ , as Emil called it. The ham and cheese omelette was delicious. "I'm glad you cook breakfast, mate," he said. "The dining hall's all right, but the cuisine isn't up to Hogwarts' standard."

"It reminds me of Durmstrang food," Emil said. "Plain and filling, except for the sweets."

Charlie thought of Nadia. She must have gone to Durmstrang. He pictured her sitting at a table at school. In front of her was an empty plate. "What kind of sweets?" he asked.

"Biscuits, cakes, puddings, baklava."

"Baklava—the pastry with honey?"

" _Da._ "

The plate in Charlie's imagination piled with triangles of baklava. Nadia licked golden honey off her fingers.

"Why the frown? You don't like baklava?"

Charlie didn't like the idea of blokes watching Nadia lick her fingers, which was completely mental. If such a thing had happened, it was over fifty years ago. He couldn't be jealous of a bunch of old wizards. "No, it's fine, I was thinking of something else."

"The wine tasting?"

"Seasonal Affective Disorder. What is it?"

"A winter depression. One of the symptoms is the desire to avoid social contact."

"I'm not depressed."

"I know." Emil smirked. "Another symptom is a decreased interest in sex. With all your cold showers, I would say loss of libido is not a problem."

"That's funny," Charlie said. "You should be laughing." He reached for his wand. " _Rictusempra!"_

" _Protego!_ " Emil cried, a second too late. Silver light hit him before he finished casting the Shield Charm. He doubled over with laughter. "M—Merlin, my ribs hurt. Use a c—counter-jinx, y—y—you bastard!"

"Sounds like you need an Anti-Stuttering Charm." Charlie finished his tea and cleared the dishes with a flick of his wand.

Between bursts of uncontrolled laughter, Emil said, "If I piss myself...I'm telling...Jane...that you fancy her!"

Charlie immediately cast the counter-jinx.

"Afraid of Vain Jane? You should be," Emil said darkly. "She would hound you from the highest peak to the lowest gorge if I but said the word."

That was true. The blonde haired, blue-eyed Jane Whatley, personal assistant to the Head Keeper, considered herself the epitome of an English rose and displayed the tenacity of an English bulldog. She thought every man she came across would fall under the spell of her beauty if she tried hard enough. So far, most of the unfortunates afflicted by her leech-like attentions had been summer volunteers. The two keepers linked with Jane since Charlie's arrival at the centre had both transferred: one to Wales and the other to Sweden.

"You wouldn't," Charlie said.

" _Nu,_ but admit it. I had you scared."

"Shitless."

Emil's evil grin displayed teeth that were slightly crooked.

Charlie did a double take. Hooked nose, lank hair, dry, sarcastic humour and crooked teeth: why had it taken him all this time to notice the resemblance? "Do you have any relatives in England?" he asked uneasily.

"Distant. Some family named Prince. Why?"

It was a relief to hear they weren't Snapes. "No reason."

"Besides changing the subject."

"Yeah."

Emil tapped his watch. "No more time to rub it in, anyway. The morning meeting begins in six minutes."

They made it to the conference room with a minute to spare.

"We should have Apparated." Emil slumped in his chair, breathing heavily.

"More fun to leg it," Charlie said. "Gets the adrenaline going."

"I'd rather read a thriller."

_I'd rather snog Nadia._ Charlie hid a grin and turned to face the Head Keeper, who had started talking about the day's agenda. It was routine. Dragons weren't active in winter. Aside from an occasional flight, they preferred to spend most of the day curled up on warm sands or stretched out on rocks to bask in the sun, if weather permitted.

After the short meeting, those on morning patrol headed for the broom shed. Charlie and the two other trainees waited for the keepers to precede them.

"I wonder if we'll ever be like that, swanning around while the little people trail in our wake," Oliver Thompson, a former Chaser for Ravenclaw, said in a rhetorical tone.

Maia Yovchev, a literal-minded Bulgarian, shrugged. "I vill not care if ve valk ahead as long as ve haff the best brooms."

"Hear, hear," said Charlie. At Maia's questioning look, he said, "Too right—I agree."

"Vhy did you not say so?" Her expression was mildly curious.

"He's English," Oliver said with a cheeky smile. "We never speak plainly if there's a way to pronounce words trippingly on the tongue."

If Maia realised her fellow trainee was trying to get on with her, she didn't show it. "Shakespeare. Yes. I haff read his plays. Romeo and Juliet I did not like. The lovers vere stupid."

They had almost reached the shed. Oliver asked, "What about Mercutio? He was a charming fellow. Witty. You liked him, didn't you?"

"He talked too much.  _Chao."_ She strode ahead.

Oliver elbowed Charlie. "Did you see? She almost smiled. I'm wearing her down, Weasley. After the wine tasting, she'll finally give in."

"She won't actually drink the wine."

"Doesn't matter. Wine is absorbed through the skin inside the mouth. Ten or so samplings and Maia will mellow." Oliver chuckled. "Last one to the shed flies the Shooting Star." He Apparated.

Charlie continued walking. He'd learned to fly on a Shooting Star racing broom. They were outdated and slow, yet far better than the ancient Oakstaffs and Swiftsticks Nadia had flown as a trainee. Let Oliver snatch the last Nimbus. He'd have to wait for his patrol partner to catch up, anyway.

 

Later that night, after seeing, swirling, sniffing, sipping, and savouring wines that ranged from light whites to heavy reds, Charlie was in a great mood. The wood-beamed dining hall resonated with conversation and laughter. A fire crackled in the open stone fireplace, adding to air of warmth and cheer. Across the room, Vain Jane attempted to chat up Etienne Guichard, the keeper and co-sponsor of the event. The Frenchman kept his arm around his partner, Aristita Cuza.

"He's using her as a shield against the harpy." Emil drank his wine without going through the process of tasting and set his egg-shaped glass down with a thump. "Smart man."

His friend sounded bitter. Charlie asked, "Do you have a thing for Aristita?" She was Romanian, one of the head trainers, and extremely fit.

"If you were sober, I would hex you for being an idiot." Emil picked up another glass and downed it. " _Nu_. If  _I_ were sober, I would hex you." He redirected his sneer. "Right after I hexed another dimwit."

At the far end of the table, Oliver entertained a group of trainees with one of his stories. Everyone was smiling except the girl who returned Emil's stare, and then pointedly turned away. Charlie blinked. "You'd hex Oliver? Or Maia?"

"Both."

Charlie put a hand on his friend’s arm. "Wine isn't going to make things better."

Emil paused in reaching for a glass. "True. This requires brandy." He stalked towards the door.

Charlie glanced around the room. He didn't want to listen to keeper stories, or chat up any of the girls. There was no reason to stay.

He caught up to Emil outside.

 

 


	6. Dragons

Nadia finished her watch before she permitted herself to feed. It was a matter of pride to control hunger and use it to be a better keeper. Senses that heightened to assess prey became tools to monitor the dragons' health. That night she visited a Ukrainian Ironbelly she had not fed from in months. One of the first lessons Alexandru taught her was to select a wide variety of prey. At the time, he believed she would eventually revoke her stand against drinking from humans. He warned her that they could not donate whole blood frequently without dire consequences. The first was damage to their health. The second was thrall.

Thrall was a Dark enchantment subjugating human will to  _strigoi_. It created an obsession that drained sanity along with physical vitality. The Council forbade binding humans in such a way because it drew the unwanted notice of Muggle and wizard authorities. Any  _strigoi_ judged guilty of creating thralls paid a dire penalty. Dragons were magical creatures, not humans, and unlikely to become enthralled. Nadia still made sure not to feed regularly on any particular dragon. The wellbeing of her charges was more important than convenience.

A  _Confundus_ followed by back-to-back Stunning Spells and a Sleeping Charm immobilised the Ironbelly and ensured he would not remember her invading his territory. She patrolled each night to assist the day keepers, not rouse the dragons' ire against them.

Nadia moved to the Ironbelly's side. She admired the glittering scale she lifted in order to reach vulnerable skin. Efficiently, she sliced leathery hide with a dagger.

_Thank you very much, my dear friend._

After she fed, Nadia cast a Healing Charm to close the gash. She never used her teeth. In her eyes, such an action would mean regressing to the animal ferocity of a new  _strigoi_ : a state she vowed never to fall into again.

She thrust away raw memories and flew to Charlie's house. His devotion to the dragons, his sense of humour, the way cared for his family: everything about him was appealing. Costi believed she was unwise to spend so much time with a human—she could read it on his face—but she refused to let Marko's betrayal affect her personal life anymore.

Costi's face appeared in her mind's eye. She imagined his lips thinning in disapproval.  _How personal is you planning to be?_

A smile crossed her face.  _Tonight, a few kisses. Another night . . . ._

When she climbed into Charlie's room, he wasn't there. She glanced around. Should she wait in his room or explore the house? If he had imbibed too much and was passed out on the sofa, she could wake him, assist him. Undress Charlie and tuck him into bed. Kiss him goodnight.

Nadia cast a Disillusionment Charm and opened the bedroom door. A murmur of sound drew her to the wood-panelled kitchen. Two men sprawled in chairs.

Charlie pushed to his feet and gripped the back of the chair for balance. His face was flushed. "Bottom of the bottle, mate. Time to sleep it off."

The other man—Emil, she presumed—sat up to pound his fist on the table. "More brandy!"

"Go ask Maia for it. I'm all out."

That wasn't true. Nadia had given Charlie an assortment of flavoured brandies to sample. He was keeping his friend from drinking himself into a stupor.

Emil hiccupped.

_Make that more of a stupor._

"I will ask her for nothing." Emil bit off each word. "I will demand!"

"Demand brandy?"

"Demand she return my book. Maia is such friends with  _Oliver,_ let her borrow his books!" Emil sneered. "If he has any."

"Yeah, that'll teach her."

Nadia heard the laughter in Charlie's voice.

Emil was oblivious. " _Da_ , it will." He pillowed his head on his arms and began to snore.

Charlie saluted his friend and walked unsteadily to the doorway. "Wunner if Nadia's here?"

She whispered, "I am here."

He lurched toward the sound of her voice and toppled forward, pinning her against the doorframe. "Sorry, couldn't see you." He sniggered. "Still can't."

Charlie didn't move, and Nadia didn't ask him to. She put her lips close to his ear. "Your friend—he has romantic troubles?"

"Heh heh. Tha' tickles. Yeah, he does, poor blighter."

He sounded extremely cheerful about it. Alcohol had affected her that way, too, long ago. Nadia gave into temptation and kissed Charlie's earlobe. "Shall I help you to your room?"

His grin was naughty. "Please do."

She wrapped her arms around his middle and steered him into the corridor.

Charlie stumbled, throwing his weight onto her. She hit the wall and cracked the back of her head. "Oh!" she said. The exclamation was out of surprise rather than pain.

"Merlin! I hurt you!" Charlie felt around until his hands tangled in her hair. "Lemme see."

"I was taken unawares, not injured," she said. " _Strigoi_ are much stronger than humans. It's not so easy to harm us."

The fingers that massaged her scalp ceased their gentle, soothing motions. "Hey, you said 'it's' and I didn' get to watch your mouth." Charlie's expression became adorably sulky. "You watched mine. No fair."

"Wait until we have privacy."

"Okay." He was all smiles.

Nadia slipped from beneath him and put her arms around his waist. "Let us try again."

Charlie draped his arms around her. "This is like slow dancin'."

"Do you always allow the woman to lead?"

"Only if she's you."

He was a sweet drunk. If they were lovers—and he was able—she would happily take advantage. Since they were not, Nadia led Charlie to his room as quickly as possible. She used a counter charm to become visible. "It's time I leave," she said.

Charlie traced her lips with a fingertip. "You have a lovely mouth."

"Thank you." Nadia guided him over to the bed. "Here. Time for bed."

"Don' wanna sleep."

His bottom lip turned down. Her resolve melted. "I could stay for a little while."

Charlie stretched out on the bed. "Lie with me," he said. "I'll dim the orbs so Emil won' see under the door and innerup our talk."

_Talk?_ Nadia amended her earlier thought. Charlie was seductive as well as sweet, and if they were lovers, she would  _ensure_ he was able to be seduced, no matter how much brandy he drank.

He blinked when she suddenly appeared at his side. "You move fast."

She carressed his cheek. " _Nu._ I am moving very, very slowly."

"Cause of Marko?"

"Because you are special. I want what we will have to be special too." Nadia leaned forward to kiss him goodnight. His hand cupped the nape of her neck as he kissed her deeply. She responded with passion until the taste of brandy on his tongue reminded her conscience that he was not clear-headed. She tried to ease out of the kiss by shifting from her side onto her back.

Charlie rolled on top of her. "Am I too heavy?" he asked between kisses.

She should have said yes. " _Nu._ Remember?  _Strigoi_  are strong."

"Ace." He pressed closer.

Nadia arched against him and moaned.  "Charlie, we have to stop."

His muffled chuckle vibrated against her throat. "Don' wanna."

And she did? Frustration made her push his shoulders harder than intended. Charlie didn't roll to the side. He catapulted into the air.

He slammed to the floor with a thud. "Ow!"

In a flash, she was on her knees beside him. "I am so sorry! Are you injured?"

"Nah, my skull's thick." Charlie gave a bark of laughter. "When you said  _strigoi_  are strong, you meant it!"

" _Da._ I meant what I said. All of it. You are special to me."

He cradled her face in his hands. "You're special to me, and I do want to talk. We can sit here if you don't trust me on a bed."

She heard the "t" pronounced at the end of his contraction. Poor man, had she scared him sober? Nadia said, "I trust you."

Charlie's teeth flashed white against his tanned skin. "Cause you can throw me across the room?"

"I can also pin you down and—" She couldn't finish the "joke." His racing pulse thrummed through her body. "We will trust each other," she said. "Yes?"

_"Da."_

They returned to the bed and maintained a pillow-width distance—courtesy of the pillow Charlie put between them. He propped his head on his hand to gaze over the downy barrier. "What does dragon blood taste like?"

_Magic. Power. Life._

"Salty-sweet and metallic due to the iron in haemoglobin." She saw his eyes drop to her mouth and said, "Yes, I fed tonight."

"I couldn't tell."

"Naturally.  _Strigoi_  would find it hard to entice if we reeked of blood."

"By the time a victim got close enough to smell a vampire; bad breath would be the least of his worries." When she didn't reply, he said, "Something else I've wondered, does it burn or sting when you drink the blood? It's used as oven cleaner," he added at the end, as if justifying the question.

"It also heals." Nadia smiled. "Are Hogwarts students not required to memorise the uses of dragons' blood?"

"My class was busy memorising magical herbs and fungi."

"So was mine. I did research on my own."

"Durmstrang's know-all, were you?"

"Only if the subject was dragons." She scooted closer. "If you wish, I will share the twelve uses with you."

"A bedtime story?" He dropped his head to the pillow. "Okay, but I'm not sleepy," he said around a yawn.

It was easy to picture him as a child determined to fight bedtime. She smiled, thankful that Charlie was all grown up. "The first use," she said, "is healing."

"And the second use is oven cleaner."

" _Nu._ That is the twelfth use. Close your eyes and listen."

"I will if you give me a kiss."

She brushed his lips with hers. "The second use is to understand the language of birds."

"Why not dragons themselves? Or reptiles?"

Nadia kissed his eyelids. They looked pale compared to the rest of his skin. "Magic works in mysterious ways."

"Hmm...d'you understand birds?"

"Yes, and before you ask, I preferred their song when I did not." She smoothed Charlie's hair away from his face. "Especially during mating season."

He sniggered. "What's the third use?"

"It enhances the potency of spells and potions."

"What kind of potions?"

The question was innocent, but Nadia caught Charlie peeking at her through his eyelashes. She refused to talk about so-called love potions. If he volunteered to test one, she might take him up on it. "Dragons' blood is also added to red ink and used to inscribe talismans and magical seals," she said, deliberately speaking in a calm, low voice. "And it can be used as a varnish, or to make incense."

"Yeah?" He sounded sleepy.

"Mmhmm...and burning dragon incense will clear a room of negative energy."

His breathing and heartbeat slowed. She murmured, "The seventh use is for scrying by fire. Sprinkle dragon blood onto wood that is well burned, and in the dying embers you may see visions of the past, present, or future." She paused. "It is said that if blood anoints a fire at midnight, in its flames you will see..."

Charlie didn't ask her what he would see. He had fallen asleep.

She kissed him softly and whispered, "You will see the face of your lifemate."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Folklore attributed healing powers to dragons' blood before Jo did in OotP, ch 20, where Hagrid slaps a dragon steak over the left side of his face. Greenish blood trickled down into his beard as he gave a soft moan of satisfaction. "Tha's better. It helps with the stingin', yeh know." (Quote in italics.) In the Danish dragon tale, Sigurd of the Volsungs, when Sigurd's friend Regin touches the slain dragon Fafnir's blood to his tongue, he understands the speech of birds. Dragon's blood (singular possessive) also refers to a tree of several origins and names (Calamus Draco, Draconis Resina, Sanguis draconis, and Dragon's Blood Palmplant are a few.) In remarkable coincidence, the animal and plant "blood" have many of the same properties. (Tongue-in-cheek bit in italics.) I googled like mad to come up with six uses to add to the two already established. Readers are welcome to fill in the rest. :D


	7. Quandaries

 

Charlie drifted off to sleep listening to Nadia's voice and awoke cursing his alarm. The shrill noise—never appreciated on the best of mornings—intensified the pounding in his head. He had a troll-sized hangover.

A muttered counter spell took care of the alarm. Charlie cracked open his eyes and flinched at the light streaming into the room. It was winter, for Merlin's sake. Why couldn't the day be overcast? He turned his head away from the uncovered window, toward the spot Nadia had rested. Two blue bottles and a note were propped against the pillow. He unfolded the parchment.

**You had no Morning After potions in your cupboards, so I Apparated to Bucharest to obtain these for you and your friend. Forgive my prying, and remember to drink much water today.**

**N**

Charlie pulled the stopper from the nearest bottle and chugged down the bitter tasting potion. Instantly, his headache eased, nausea was gone, and he no longer had to squint against the light. He sighed in relief. Forgive Nadia for prying—he'd kiss her! Not at that moment, though, even if it had been possible: the potion didn't alleviate the nasty taste in his mouth.

After he chewed brushing/flossing mints and took a shower, Charlie dressed and went to the kitchen to find Emil still hunched over the table. Charlie tapped him on the shoulder. "Drink this, mate."

Emil listlessly flailed an arm. "No more drinking. This I vow by—by—I forget." He clutched his head and groaned. "Hades, who cares, I'm dying, may as well drink." Emil drained the potion and sharply inhaled as it took effect "That was not brandy." He examined the bottle closely. "Where did you get this?"

"Bucharest."

"Which apothecary?"

None of his other friends would have asked. "I don't remember," Charlie said. "It's a Morning After potion. That's all that matters."

Emil's brows drew together. "There is no label. No expiration date. How did you know what you were buying? We could have drunk a contraceptive potion." His face lost all colour. "We could have drunk poison!"

"We didn't." Charlie poured and drank a glass of water and then handed one to his friend. "Here. Keep hydrated. I'm going to the dining hall."

Emil followed Charlie into the lounge. "Name the street, describe the shop. Something. Anything."

_I should have dumped the stuff into a glass._  Charlie grabbed his coat and patted the pockets to make sure his gloves had not fallen out. "All right. Since you're paranoid, I'll tell you. I didn't buy the potions. A friend did. I don't know where sh—my friend got them, but I know they're Morning After potions, not poison or contraceptives.”

Emil's eyebrows climbed toward his hairline. "She?"

"Some men can be friends with women." Charlie tried to distract. "Where's my hat?"

"On the floor. Stop avoiding the question. Who is  _she_ , and how did she know you needed a Morning After potion?" Emil snapped his fingers. "Of course! You sneak her into your room. That is why you take so many showers!"

Charlie felt a flush crawl up his neck. He bent to pick up the hat in an effort to conceal it.

Emil was too observant. "Your face is red—is she married?"

"No."

"Then what do you have to hide from a friend?" Emil's tone rang with suspicion.

_Dragon dung, the jealous bastard thinks I'm seeing Maia!_  "Her name is Nadia," Charlie said, "She's—Romanian—and we both prefer to keep our relationship private." He hoped that would satisfy Emil.

He should have known better.

"I want to meet her."

"I'll tell her—"

"Tonight."

If Charlie said no, Emil would use a Disillusionment Charm and risk frostbite to stake out his window. He was that stubborn. "Fine. When she visits, I'll bring her into the lounge to say hullo." Charlie jammed the hat onto his head and opened the door. "Goodbye."

" _La revedere."_

In the dining hall, Charlie saw Maia sitting by herself, looking glum. On any other day, he would have gone over and tried to cheer her up. That day, he headed straight for the food and then chose a table on the other side of the room. He didn't pay attention to the person sitting there until he had pulled out a chair. It was Vain Jane. Unable to move without being rude, he sat and said, "Good morning."

Jane sighed. "Isn't it? I took a walk." She patted her windblown hair. "There's a lovely breeze."

Charlie thought the gusts were icy, but if Jane considered having her lips frozen to her teeth "lovely", he wouldn't argue. He piled mortadella and provolone between slices of crusty white bread to make a sandwich. After several bites, he became aware that Jane gazed fixedly down at her teacup. Her vacant expression made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end.

As if Jane felt his stare, she turned her head. "Did you discover your destiny last night? I did. It was amazing."

Was she saying she and Etienne...? Charlie didn't believe it. No man in his right mind would prefer Jane to Aristita. She must have hooked her claws into someone else. "That's nice," he said, although he doubted Jane was listening. She was staring into her tea once more.

"I see a heart," she said dreamily. "Pleasures to come."

Vain Jane acting loony gave Charlie the creeps. It also killed his appetite. He muttered a farewell and left the table.

During the morning meeting he eyed his fellow keepers. None of them appeared doom-ridden or tormented by shame. Oliver and Kenneth narrowed their eyes against the sunlight and winced in pain each time Dimitrie's voice rose, but Charlie figured they were hung-over. Unless . . . could one of the two have been so rat-arsed he didn't remember becoming Jane's "destiny?" If so, Charlie hoped it was Kenneth instead of Oliver. Even though Emil called Oliver an idiot, Charlie thought he was a decent sort. Kenneth, on the other hand, quoted Shakespeare and parted his hair on the side because he'd been told it made him look like a young Gilderoy Lockhart.

Dimitrie rattled off the list of assignments. Charlie and Oliver were to assess the warming sand temperature in the Hungarian Horntail caves.

"I wanted to fly deep, shady gorges," Oliver said on the way to the broom shed. "Ever see a Muggle icepick? It feels like each ray of sunshine is driving one into my eyeballs."

"Vear sunglasses," Maia said. She conjured a pair.

Oliver smiled at her as he put them on. "You are my angel of mercy." He waggled his eyebrows. "However shall I thank you?"

"No gratitude is necessary. I vould do the same for anyone." Maia marched away.

"She's so disciplined," Oliver said. "I wonder if she spanks."

Charlie said, "I'd bet Maia would hex if she heard you talk about her like that."

"She won't. I'm not stupid, but you're way too serious. I was only talking—"

"Through your arse."

Oliver laughed. "What can I say? I'm talented."

A memory flashed into Charlie's head of eight-year-old Fred and George mooning their elder brothers to show how they could talk through their arses. George had impersonated their mother while Fred mimicked Aunt Muriel. Charlie and Bill got tears in their eyes from laughing so hard. Across the corridor in his room, Percy had yelled, "What's so funny?"

"A smile? What? You've a sense of humour after all?"

Charlie said, "I'm laughing at the thought of how long it will take you to reach the caves on a Shooting Star." He Apparated.

It took Oliver fifteen minutes to catch up to him. Charlie had already used a Shrinking Spell on his broomstick and cast spells to muffle sound and neutralise scent. "You shouldn't try to force an old racing broom to go faster," he said. "Like other things, the Shooting Star responds better to gentle handling." He cast a Disillusionment Charm in time to deprive Oliver of a target for the piece of sandstone in his hand.

A few minutes later, they climbed the slope with only an occasional whisper or disturbance of pebbles to orient each other as to their position. When they reached the first cave, Charlie crawled forward. Oliver kept watch for returning dragons.

The horntail egg remained securely nestled, but the volcanic sand had cooled since he'd checked it a few days ago. That was odd. Charlie cast a Heating Charm. In the back of her lair, the dragoness curled up, sleeping. It may have been a trick of the light, but her scales didn't seem to glitter as they usually did. He would note his observations in the log on his return to the centre. In the meantime, he had a patrol to finish.

Charlie backed out of the cave and gave the long, twittering call of the Alpine Swift—Oliver's cue to move on. While Charlie stood lookout at the second cave, he wondered how to tell Nadia that his housemate expected to meet her. Should he come straight out with the story or work his way around to it? If Bill were there to ask, smooth as he was with women, he'd surely advise his brother to chat first, get in a little snogging, and then confess what happened earlier. Charlie decided to make that his plan.

He restlessly waited for the sun to set and tried to think of things to chat about, and whether he should kiss Nadia before they talked about their day—in her case, night—or after. He was in such a state of anticipation; he threw his plan out the window the second a cat leapt into his room. "Emil wants to meet you."

Nadia transformed and stood looking at him. "You told him about me?"

"Not exactly." The whole story gushed out of his mouth like a miscast  _Aguamenti_  spell. Charlie couldn't help it. She'd sounded hurt, like he'd bragged about having a hot vampire girlfriend, which he hadn't, and wouldn't, because he wasn't an arsehole.

Nadia was smiling by the time he finished. "We will say we met in Bucharest?"

"That'll work," Charlie said. "A group of us went pub-crawling the weekend before my parents came to visit. Emil didn't go."

"Did you buy me a drink, or did I make a move on you?"

"Emil would never believe I tried to get on with someone who looks like you," Charlie said. "You could say you liked my accent—"

"I like all of you." One moment, Nadia was metres away, the next she was kissing him, her fingers tangled in his hair to keep his mouth fused to hers until he was weak in the knees and gasping for air. "Pardon!" she cried. "I only wanted to show—"

"Don't worry, you showed me." He bent to kiss her softly.

Nadia melted against him and then pulled away. "My clothing," she said. "I need to remove."

Every muscle in his body tensed.

Nadia bit her lip. "I do not look like a girlfriend. I look like a thief, all in black."

"You mean change," Charlie said, finally comprehending. "Change clothes."

" _Da_." She touched the side seam of his jeans. "This material is suitable."

Charlie watched her trousers become blue denim. Nadia must have earned Outstandings in Transfiguration.

"My blouse has protective spells against stain and wear," she said. "It would be easier to tailor one of your shirts." She gestured to the wardrobe. "May I?"

"Sure."

She chose the Chudley Cannons T-shirt Ron sent for Christmas. "Orange and black like Halloween. It's very festive."

"It's yours."

_"Mulţumesc mult!"_

Charlie turned his back so she could switch shirts. "It's nothing. I'm not the Cannons fan my brother is. They haven't won a championship in a hundred years." The rustle of fabric was driving him crazy. It was too easy to imagine Nadia taking off her shirt—especially after seeing her in a low-cut dress. He said, "I wish I could give you something better."

"I am happy with my gift. Do you like the colour on me?"

He faced her and said, "It's beautiful."

"A shirt a girlfriend would wear?"

Charlie grinned. "Yeah."

In the corridor outside the lounge, Nadia slipped her hand into his.

"Partners hold hands," Charlie said. "Good thinking."

She whispered, "I am nervous. What if he does not approve?"

"Don't worry." Charlie led her into the room.

Emil was sitting in a chair, reading. He jumped to his feet. " _Buna seara_ , I am Emil Morgenstern," he said to Nadia. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

"Nadia Tedescu," she said. " _Buna_. I am very pleased to meet you." She shook his hand.

"Your skin is cold," Emil said. "I will put another log on the fire."

" _Te rog_ —please—do not go to the trouble," she said. "I will sit by Charlie on the sofa. He is very warm."

"It's the red hair." Charlie squeezed Nadia's fingers lightly. Her answering squeeze almost made his eyes water, it was so strong. She really was nervous.

Once they all took a seat, Emil asked Nadia, " _De undi esti?_ "

" _Sunt din Bucuresti_ —I'm from Bucharest."

"You did not attend Durmstrang," Emil said. "Your face is unfamiliar. Did you study at home?"

"For many years. Costi is the best of teachers."

Emil leaned forward in his chair. "Costi sounds like a house-elf name," he said sharply.

"It is."

Charlie gave his friend a warning look. "Do you have something against house-elves?"

"I have something against pure-bloods who enslave them."

Nadia lifted her chin. "Costi is not a slave. He is my dearest friend."

"Of course he is dear to you—he obeys your every command," Emil shot back.

"Such ignorance and arrogance," Nadia said. "You know nothing to say such things."

Emil looked down his long nose at her. "I know you are  _strigoi_.


	8. Blood

 

If Emil hoped to force a confession, she was going to disappoint him. "Why? Nadia asked. "Because I have a house-elf? More assumptions." She turned to Charlie. "I do not wish to cause trouble between friends. It is best I go."

" _Incarcerous!"_

Cords appeared and wrapped around her body. She was strong enough to break them. If she did, however, it would prove she was  _strigoi._

Emil said, "You're not going anywhere until you admit exactly what you are and what you're after." He told Charlie, "Open your eyes. She only visits at night, her skin is cold—"

"It isn't cold," Charlie said. "It's cool. There's a difference."

"Have you ever seen her eat? Drink?" Emil pointed his wand at Nadia. "She's  _strigoi_ and she's using you."

"For what? Sex? We haven't slept together."

Nadia's lips curved when Charlie glanced her way, as if to reassure her that it wasn't lack of desire holding him back. "You are special," she whispered.

Emil said, "Maybe she only wants your blood."

Nadia laughed. She couldn't help it. "I visit every night." Her gaze dropped to Charlie's lips. "Why? To learn all I can about my victim?" The idea was ridiculous. "I only want to be with you," she said to Charlie.

"Same here." He leaned in close.

"Don't kiss her!" Emil shouted. "Am I the only one who remembers Dark Arts lessons?  _Strigoi_ kisses are addicting!"

Nadia remembered what happened earlier. "Then Charlie must be  _strigoi._ "

Charlie grinned. "Thanks."

Emil made a strangled noise. "She’s entranced you with her glamour."

"Her natural beauty," Charlie said.

"In order to drain your life away!"

Nadia was no longer amused. "Once again, you show ignorance. A  _strigoi_ such as you describe would take what she wanted the first night." She told Charlie, "The thought of drinking human blood makes me sick."

"I believe you."

" _Accio Tecpatl_   _biface!_ " Emil said grimly.

A stone blade zoomed into the room. Pearly bits of shell embedded into amber-coloured stone looked like eyes and pointed teeth. The object radiated Darkness.

Charlie pointed his wand at his friend. "If you try to hurt her—"

"I'm only going to cut myself." Emil pushed up the sleeve of his robes.

"No!" Nadia cried. "The blade is evil!"

"It's Aztec," Emil said. "A ceremonial knife, not a Dark object."

He sliced across his wrist at the exact moment Charlie yelled, " _Expelliarmus!"_

The blade flew out of Emil's hand and shattered against the wall. It was too late.

Charlie cast a Healing Charm to no effect. Emil's wound continued to bleed.

"That's strange." Emil held up his arm. Blood trickled in rivulets. "I didn't cut deep enough for this. I only wanted to prove—"

"That you're mental?" Charlie jumped to his feet to cast another spell.

Nadia felt weirdly detached from what was happening. She could hear Emil's heart pumping, smell the metallic odour of his blood, and yet experienced no urge to taste it. It looked thin, watery: unappetising. Thank the stars. In the back of her mind, she had worried. " _Sanescere obduci_ ," she said.

Emil's gash magically healed over and immediately tore open again. Crimson splattered the wood floor. Emil frowned. "You aren't attacking and the spells aren't working." He sounded intellectually curious rather than upset. Almost as an afterthought, he used a counter charm to release Nadia from the cords.

Charlie tore off his shirt and ripped the fabric to tie a tourniquet around Emil's arm. Blood continued to flow from the wound.

"The blade is Dark," Nadia said. "Meant for sacrifice." Meant to ensure the victim bled out.

Charlie said, "I'll go get the Healer."

"He cannot counter such magic." She walked over to Emil. "I can, if you are willing."

"What are you going to do?"

"There are properties in my saliva—"

" _Strigoi!_ I knew it!" Emil cradled his injured arm protectively.

"She drinks dragon blood, not human," Charlie said. "Trust her."

"If I'm turned, I rip your throat out." Emil held out his arm. "I am willing," he said grudgingly.

Nadia wrapped her hand around his forearm and brought it to her mouth. Blood coated her tongue and smeared across her face. It dripped onto her shirt. Nadia's stomach heaved. She dropped Emil's arm and ran out of the room.

She was standing beneath the showerhead, eyes closed, face turned up to the spray when Charlie entered the bathroom.

"Are you . . . all right . . .?" he asked.

The room had a central drain and an open shower. He had a view of her bare back and the orange lump of fabric on the white tiled floor. Nadia hugged her arms across her chest.  _At least I did not strip naked._ "I had to get the blood off," she said. "I am sorry I tore your shirt."

"It's no loss. I'll give you another one." After a pause, he said, "Emil's cut healed like it was never there."

"Of course. It is self-interest for  _strigoi_ not to leave evidence. It keeps victims from notifying the authorities."

"You're not like that."

"Emil thinks so. I spit out his blood, yet he will never forget I licked it off his arm, and he will always worry that I enjoyed the taste."

"Did you?"

Nadia opened her mouth and let water fill it. She spat it out. "What do you think?"

"I think dragon blood must be like the finest Bordeaux while human stuff's cheap plonk. Yeah, you can drink it, but who'd want to?"

She looked at him over her shoulder. "Not me."

"I know that," Charlie said. "I trust you."

In a flash, she crossed the room to hug him. "That means so much." Nadia buried her face against his neck. Charlie's body heat sank into her front while his hands warmed her back. If she were a cat, she would have purred. She sighed. "I am soaking you and I did not heat the water. You must be frozen."

"Do I feel cold?"

Nadia heard the amusement in his voice and the change in his heartbeat. She lifted her head and kissed him. His lips, his breath: everything about him was intoxicating. She tugged at the hem of the clean shirt he had put on. "May I?"

"Sure."

In the blink of an eye, Nadia stripped Charlie's t-shirt off and pressed her torso to his. "Mmm, you are hot." She wound her arms around his neck. "Muscled too." She kissed a scar on his shoulder.

"Are you trying to make it better?" He chuckled.

Nadia kissed the spot again and swirled her tongue over it. "I like the way you taste."

Charlie's eyes darkened. He took her mouth with an urgency that triggered her own hunger. She shifted restlessly.

He groaned. "I like the way you move. Next time, could you do it a little slower?"

"I go too fast?" Nadia started to pull away.

His arms tightened around her. "No! It's...just...you went from one side of a room to the other—took off my shirt—so quickly I didn't even see you do it." A flush swept up from his chest to his face. "I really wanted to see you do it."

"Oh." Her cheeks burned. Nadia bent and picked up Charlie's t-shirt. "Here. Put this on. I will take it off slowly."

"You don't have to." Charlie pulled the shirt on over his head.

She back-pedalled. "And I will walk across the room to— _Ahhh!"_ Jets of water pelted her face. She had accidentally stepped beneath the shower.

"Sorry, it's automatic." Charlie cast a counter-spell.

Nadia lifted her hands to push wet strands out of her eyes. "I did not look where I was going." She ran her hands over her hair, silently using a charm to dry it. "No harm. See?"

He stared.

She hid a smile. " _Nu?_ I will come closer." Nadia had almost reached Charlie when she heard a floorboard creak. "Your friend is outside."

"I don't hear—"

A knock sounded.

"We'll be right out," Charlie called. He said to Nadia, "Take my shirt."

"It is not necessary." She used a spell to dry both their clothing and picked up the pieces of fabric. Costi was an expert at sewing charms. She had watched him often enough to attempt a hasty repair.

Emil's voice came through the door. "I made tea."

Charlie didn't appear to have heard.

Nadia dressed. "Answer so he does not worry I have drained your life away."

Emil must have heard her. He said, "I apologise for my ignorance."

Nadia glanced down to figure out what Charlie was looking at. Nothing was showing through. Her seams were straight. "I accept your apology," she said, "and your offer of tea, as well, if someone will open the door." She gave Charlie a meaningful look.

His gaze finally lifted. "You drink tea?"

"A sip or two. Why were you staring?"

"Your shirt—never mind," Charlie said, giving her a brief kiss before turning the handle.

In the kitchen, Emil said, "I used an  _Incendio_ on what was left of the knife."

"Where did you get that thing?" Charlie asked.

Emile became preoccupied with stirring honey into his tea. "The blade had a certificate."

"Forged by an underworld dealer, I am sure," Nadia said. "Selling to those who hunt artefacts in backstreets."

"I won't be a return customer." Emil waved a hand at Nadia's teacup. "So  _strigoi_ can drink something other than blood?"

"A little."

"But you do drink blood."

"Dragons' blood."

"What about other  _strigoi?"_

"They prey on humans," Nadia said. "I am . . . different."

Emil arched a brow. "I see that."

Charlie cleared his throat. "She was a dragon keeper," he said. "Now she takes the night watch."

Nadia looked at the clock on the wall. "It is time I started my patrol. I want to check on the horntail you mentioned in the log." She rose and offered her hand to Emil. "It has been . . . ." She didn't know what to say.

"Yes," he said, with a firm handshake. "It has."

"Your cloak's in my room," Charlie said. He held her hand as they walked out of the kitchen.

When they reached his bedroom, she said, "We are private, so tell me—why do you keep staring at my chest? Is something wrong with the size, the shape?"

"Gods, no," Charlie said. "I've never seen anything so perfect."

She hugged him for being sweet. "Honesty will not hurt my feelings. I have never used a sewing spell before, so it will help if you tell me my mistake."

An odd look crossed his face. "You're talking about your t-shirt."

" _Da_ , are the seams—" Nadia suddenly realised what Charlie had thought they were discussing. She fought the urge to suggest they compare perfection. She had to leave. Soon. To patrol.

Charlie traced the black cannon ball on her shirt with a fingertip. "Your seams are perfect, but the Cannons logo is inside out."

His touch was as addicting as his kisses. "Emil," Nadia said, in an attempt to focus on something else. "He noticed?" She pictured a black eyebrow rising.

_I see that._

Charlie's slow grin hinted that he remembered what had been "seen" in the bathroom as well as the kitchen.

Nadia smiled. "I have to go."

"I understand."

Neither of them moved.

"If—if you wish, I could return," she said.

"I, uh, am concerned about the dragoness." Charlie helped her into her cloak and opened the window. "If I'm asleep—"

"I am invited to wake you?"

His eyes gleamed. "Oh yeah."

She repeated his answer to herself as she flew toward the horntail caves. It was an odd combination of words, and yet so evocative.

_Is Charlie Weasley sexy? Oh yeah!_

"Oh yeah," she murmured. The night breeze snatched the words from her lips. "Take them to Charlie," she said in a moment of whimsy.

Nadia landed on the slope beneath the caves and cast spells to become undetectable. Stealthily, she crawled into the first cave. Although Charlie had cast a Heating Charm earlier, the sand felt cool to the touch. She punched down through the fine-grained layers. Only the first couple of millimetres had chilled. Peculiar. She used a charm to reheat the sand and edged her way further into the lair.

According to Charlie's report, scales appeared dull. Nadia crawled as close to the horntail as she dared to examine the dragoness. She bit back a scream at the sight of leathery patches of hide. Scales—dozens of scales—were missing. They weren't lying in the sand. They were gone.

The horntail's breathing sounded laboured. Her eyes were cloudy. Had she been poisoned? There was no time to lose. Nadia scrambled to her feet and ran. Once out of the cave, she launched herself into the sky.

"Charlie!" she yelled when her feet touched the ground behind his cottage. She used a Sonorous Charm. " _Charlie!_ "

"Nadia!" she heard faintly. The front door opened and slammed closed. Charlie ran around the side of the house. His coat was unbuttoned. Emil followed behind him. "What's wrong?" Charlie asked. He ran his hands down her arms. "Are you hurt?"

"The horntail." She put a hand on his arm to pull him toward the other cottages. "Bring Healer Polizu to the cave. Tell him the dragoness struggles to breathe. Tell him you fear poison or Dark magic."

Emil's teeth chattered. He had run outside without a coat. "Why would—"

"Scales," Nadia said. "To steal scales."

Charlie's jaw tightened. "I'll go get the Healer."

"I'll come with you," Emil said.

Nadia removed her cloak. "Here. Take this. I do not need it."

"Where are you going?" Charlie asked urgently.

"To visit a gypsy." Magic lifted her into the air and propelled her toward a forest clearing.

A lone figure stood beside the campfire with a bucket in his hand. The rest of the Vasile clan had gone to bed. The fire was reduced to ashes.

"Be careful," Nadia said. "More burns are caused by embers than flames."

"Nadia!" Nicu doused the flames and let the bucket drop to the ground. "I wanted to owl. Iulian would not let me."

"Why not? Did Marko return—threaten your family?" Her hands clenched into fists.

Nicu shook his head. " _Nu_. I did not see Marko." He pointed toward the woods. "I saw a woman."

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Cue the ominous gypsy music! 
> 
> There's a saying, use water, not sand, when extinguishing a campfire. The Vasile clan builds a fire every day, so I didn't go into all the details about proper ways to mix dirt with ashes, then dump water, yadda yadda yadda. Fiction is real life with the boring parts taken out, after all. :D


	9. Betrayal

 

Charlie started unbuttoning his coat before Nadia was gone from sight. "Trade," he said.

"No one wears your girlfriend's clothes but you? How romantic."

"You're lucky I don't have time to jinx you," Charlie said. He put on the cloak and was pleasantly surprised: it fit perfectly. The tailor must have used a one-size spell.

The same was not true of his coat.

"My wrists are sticking out," Emil grumbled. "I look ridiculous."

"It isn't the first time. Use a Warming Charm and let's go." Charlie Apparated to the front of the Healer's cottage and dashed up the steps. He pounded on the door. "It's Charlie Weasley. Get dressed. There's a horntail in trouble!"

The Healer's wife answered the door. " _Buna seara._  Praslea will be out shortly."

Something about Iona Polizu made Charlie feel young and ill mannered. She was extremely tall for a woman, and wore her hair in a crown of braids. He said, "Thank you, ma'am. I apologise for disturbing your evening."

"It is quite all right, I assure you." She inclined her head graciously to acknowledge Emil, who seconded Charlie's apology.

She smiled and glanced over her shoulder. "Do you have everything you need, dear?"

" _Da._ " Praslea, who towered over his wife, kissed her on the cheek and bent to squeeze through the doorway. The pockets of his greatcoat were so crammed with supplies he made clinking noises when he walked. "Tell me the symptoms on the way," he said in a deep, rumbling voice.

Charlie and Emil had to jog to keep up with Praslea's huge strides.

"The dragoness struggles to breathe," Charlie said. "It could be poison or Dark magic."

With jolting quickness, Praslea took Charlie by the shoulders and picked him up as though he weighed nothing. "Who told you these things?"

Charlie's feet dangled in the air. He felt like a kid snatched up by angry parent for using bad language.  _Where did you learn that word? Who taught it to you?_ He had never confessed to his mother that he’d overheard his father while playing in the workshop and didn't plan to confess now. "You're wasting time," he said.

Praslea looked him in the eye. "Was it Nadia Tedescu?"

"You know her?" Charlie asked. He stumbled when Praslea dropped him to the ground.

"For many years. I am part  _Zmeu_ ," he said. "We live long lives." He resumed the trek to the broom shed at faster pace. The ground trembled.

"Is  _Zmeu_  Romanian for giant?" Charlie asked Emil. They ran to keep up.

"Ogre.  _Zmeu_  like to kidnap beautiful maidens."

Charlie snorted. "Is that how he met his wife?"

They were nearing the shed. Praslea chose the fastest racing brooms. When he handed one to Charlie, he said, "I met Iona at a village dance. Then I kidnapped her."

Charlie didn't have the nerve to ask if Praslea was joking. He cast a Night Vision Charm and mounted his broomstick.

At racing speed, trees and rocks were a blur of black and grey. On the slope beneath the horntail caves, Charlie landed beside the others and used spells to mask scent and sound.

Praslea said, "No Disillusionment Charms. I need my assistants visible." He headed for the first cave.

Charlie and Emil rushed to follow.

The horntail dragoness lay on her side on the warming sand, too weak to do more than lift her head when they entered the lair. Charlie's stomach clenched. Horntails were vicious. She should have shrieked and breathed fire or lashed at them with her spiked tail. Instead, she struggled to breathe. The raspy wheeze made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. "What's wrong with her?"

"Obvious stridor, marked inspiratory effort, and minimal air movement at the mouth and nasal openings all point to foreign body aspiration or laryngeal paralysis. I must examine more closely." Praslea cast a spell.

The dragon's eyes closed.

"Keep an eye on our patient," he told Emil. "I have scars to prove dragons can be resistant to sedation."

Praslea took what looked like an empty jar out of a coat pocket and handed it to Charlie. "Check her gums—I need to know the colour—and then open this beneath the nasal passages."

"What is it?"

"Oxygen. It never harms a patient and may mean the difference between life and death."

Charlie approached the dragoness warily. Even unconscious, she looked fearsome. He leaned down to examine the gums. "Bluish," he said loudly. He raised the jar and opened the lid.

Whatever magic he released took effect. The dragoness inhaled deeply.

"Excellent," Praslea said behind him. "Continue to administer oxygen."

Charlie heard several clanking noises.

"Iona packed my bronchoscope in the wrong pocket," Praslea said as he stood next to Charlie. Over his shoulder, he called, "Come tickle the skin beneath her foreleg, Emil."

Charlie frowned. Didn't the Hogwarts coat of arms say something about never tickling a sleeping dragon?

The motto obviously didn't apply in Romania. Emil pulled a scale away from the massive body and tickled the hide without any consequence more dire than the smell of dragon breath when the horntail panted in her sleep.

"Yes, open," Praslea murmured. "A charm to dry saliva and prevent coughing and I will see what ails you, my beauty." He cast the spells and placed a curved, flexible tube inside the dragoness' mouth. Filaments inside the tube began to glow. Whirring softly, the narrow tube lengthened and snaked inside the airway. Praslea looked into the end like a telescope.

"Was it something she ate?" Emil asked.

"There are no foreign bodies," Praslea said, "but it is possible spell-induced aspiration caused the stenosis—constriction of the airway—that resulted in the loss of scales." He looked at Emil. "Take the bronchoscope." To Charlie he said, "Continue oxygenation."

"Yes, sir." Charlie watched in amazement as Praslea held the dragoness' mouth open with one hand and leaned in to cast Healing Charms. Muggles thought circus performers were brave for sticking their heads into the mouths of lions. They should get a look at dragon teeth. Of course, if they did, the Muggles would have the memory erased by Obliviators.

By the time Praslea finished spell casting, the muscles in Charlie's arms burned from holding up the oxygen jar. "Is she better, sir?" he asked.

"Emil will tell us," Praslea answered.

"The inflammation is gone and the airway is no longer restricted." Emil extended the bronchoscope to Charlie. "Want to see?"

Praslea took the oxygen jar. "Go ahead."

Charlie looked into the tube and grinned. He was seeing inside a dragon! "Amazing."

"I will take that as a compliment," Praslea said. He had a turn viewing the airways through the bronchoscope and then used a spell to return the device to its original, compact form. "Come. We must report to Dimitrie."

The Head Keeper's cottage was lit up as though a party was going on—or a meeting.

Mrs. Maslahaun answered the door, grey and flinty-eyed. While Praslea's wife made Charlie feel like a grubby schoolboy, Dimitrie's wife made him feel like a garden slug: one she suspected was flesh eating. "At last you are here," she said harshly. "Now I may return to sleep without leaving my husband alone with that creature." She immediately trudged upstairs.

"Such charm," Emil whispered as he and Charlie followed Praslea down the short corridor from the entry to the lounge. "Why would her husband ever look at another witch?"

Charlie saw Nadia sitting in a chair on the opposite side of the dark-panelled room from Dimitrie and smiled. She had stopped by his house and borrowed a green jumper.

In the blink of an eye, she was out of the chair and standing at his side. "I could not fix the tee," she said, "I hope—"

"I don't mind," he said, trying not to grin like an idiot at the 'C' on her chest.

"Keeper Tedescu informed me of her suspicions, Healer Polizu," Dimitrie said. "Did your findings support them?"

The pompous tone struck Charlie as odd until he noticed the way Dimitrie's eyes darted up to the ceiling. Was he afraid his jealous wife was listening?

Praslea said heavily, "There was no visible cause for stenosis." He relayed his diagnosis and treatment.

Dimitrie's shoulders slumped. "It is hard to believe one of our own—" He turned to Nadia. "Perhaps your informant was mistaken. He is very young."

"Nicu Vasile is fifteen. Old enough to track a woman carrying a holdall through the woods to the research centre."

"What woman?" Charlie asked.

"He had never seen her before, but Nicu did not think she was a keeper," Nadia said. "She was blonde, pretty, and wore a blue velvet cloak."

Emil said, "That sounds like Jane Whatley."

"A couple of days ago I sat at the same table with her at breakfast," Charlie said. "She was acting weird—almost drugged."

_Did you discover your destiny last night? I did. It was amazing._

He looked at Dimitrie. "Jane's your personal assistant. Has she said or done anything unusual?"

"Nothing."

Nadia laid her hand on Charlie's arm. "We must talk to her, search her cottage."

"I am the Head Keeper," Dimitrie said stonily.

"Then you talk to Jane, and we will follow to assist as you direct." Nadia's response was calm, but her fingernails dug into Charlie's sleeve.

"Ouch," he said beneath his breath.

Nadia heard. In one of her faster-than-the-eye movements, she whispered in his ear and then moved away. It happened so quickly, Charlie's brain took a few seconds to register what she'd said.

_Did I hurt you? Later I will kiss it better._

" _Da_ , I will do the talking," Dimitrie said.

In the entry, Mrs. Maslahaun appeared out of thin air to yank the cloak out of her husband's hand. "You promised never to go into the night with that creature! You promised!" Her black eyes gleamed with fury. " _Al dracului sa fii, Dimitrie, cu coasta ta_!" She threw down the cloak. "Leave if you have no honour.  _Kkmash pe mormantul tau sa aiba ma-ta in ce infige lumarea!"_ She spat on the floor and Disapparated.

Dimitrie broke the awkward silence. "Healer Polizu, you will question Miss Whatley and report to me in the morning." He nodded stiffly and Disapparated.

The four left the house and walked to Jane's cottage.

"Olga never changes," Praslea said.

Charlie looked at Nadia.

Her mouth turned down at the corners. "For thirty years, she has accused me of trying to ensnare her husband. It has never been true."

"Of course not," Charlie said. "Don't listen to her. Whatever the old hag said was lies."

Nadia smiled faintly. "She said, 'To hell with you, Dimitrie,' and 'I will defecate on your grave so your mother has something to stick in the candle'."

"You mean  _somewhere_  to stick—" Charlie cut himself off and inwardly groaned. He was acting like Percy again, correcting her English. "Interesting saying," he mumbled.

Nadia slipped her hand into Charlie's. "I have heard much worse."

"I'm sorry." It wasn't the right moment for a hug or any other gesture of comfort. They were almost to the cottage. But when they were alone . . . .

Emil said, "Ahem. It would be better if Nadia was not seen."

" _Da_ ," Praslea said. "Use a Disillusionment Charm."

Nadia said, "I will become a kitty for Charlie to tuck into his pocket if he is agreeable."

"I'm very agreeable," Charlie said, returning her smile.

She winked and transformed into a black cat.

"You have a girlfriend and a pet," Emil said after Charlie placed his "kitty" into an inner cloak pocket. "And I thought you were lonely."

Charlie heard a soft purr and grinned from ear to ear.

"Have your wands ready," Praslea said. "Jane may not be  _agreeable_ to questioning.  _Zmeu_ , being magical creatures, are naturally resistant to spells, so I will lead the way."

Praslea's shoulders were so wide, Charlie could only hear the door open and Alice, Jane's housemate, say, "I've been so worried! Have you seen Jane? Is she all right?"

"I came to speak with her," Praslea said.

"But you can't," Alice said. "Jane went for a walk and never came back. She's been gone for ages!" She sounded on the verge of hysteria.

"We will find her." Praslea's experience as a dual trained Healer gave him a confident, reassuring manner his human patients responded to more favourably than the dragons under his care.

Alice calmed down, let them in, and showed them Jane's room. "She hasn't taken anything—clothes, money. I looked."

"Why?" Charlie asked. "Did you think she might run off with someone?" He had a suspicion he hoped wouldn't be confirmed.

"Yes." Alice's round face blushed pink. "Jane was always writing in her diary, so that was the first thing I checked, but she didn't write his name, or say where he lived."

Cat paws kneaded Charlie's side. He said, "We need to look through it for clues."

Alice went to the bed and pulled a diary bound in floral fabric from beneath a pillow. A pink Quick Quotes Quill acted as a bookmark. She gave the diary to Praslea.

"Many descriptions of pleasure, no descriptions of her lover other than burning eyes," Praslea said after skimming through the pages.

_I see a heart . . . Pleasures to come._

Charlie remembered the dreamy expression on Jane's face and something else: the way Nadia's eyes glowed red in the darkness.

Cat claws pricked his skin. He wasn't the only one who suspected Marko. "If it wouldn't be too much of a bother," Charlie said to Alice, "I'd appreciate a cup of tea. It's cold out."

"Oh. Yes. I'll make a pot at once."

"I will help you," Praslea said. He gave Charlie a "find something" look and steered Alice into the corridor.

Nadia wriggled out of the cloak pocket and landed on all fours. She transformed back into a woman and said, "If Jane is Marko's thrall she is in great danger. We must find her quickly!"

"Who's Marko?" Emil asked. "And what is a thrall? A slave?"

" _Da,_ through forbidden magic," Nadia said. She faced Charlie. "I will go to Alexandru."

"Not without me," he said. "Praslea and Emil will help too."

" _Zmeu_  and  _strigoi_  are ancient enemies." Nadia shook her head. "Praslea cannot come."

"I'll still go," Emil said pointedly. "If someone will tell me  _where_  we're going _."_

"Bucharest," Charlie answered.

"I know the city," Emil said. "Name a place and I will meet you there. I can Apparate long distances."

"Are you willing to be bound to your word that you will never reveal the location of Alexandru's home to anyone?" Her eyes were on Charlie as she asked, "Will you give a Wizard's Handshake?"

"Yes," Charlie said.

Emil said, "I will too."

Pain stabbed through Charlie's hand during the handshake. He bit back a curse.

When it was his turn, Emil yelled something in Romanian.

Praslea burst into the room. "What is wrong?"

"Wizard's Handshake," Emil said, rubbing his palm with a thumb.

Nadia said, "We must go to Bucharest—to  _strigoi_. I will send my Patronus when we find her."

Praslea didn't ask why he was expected to stay behind. He said, "May it be soon."

Since Charlie had never had the time or interest in learning how to Apparate over great distances, Nadia used Side-Along Apparation to transport them to the home of her strigoi "father."

It was a mansion. Charlie's eyes went to Nadia. "Do you have one of these?"

" _Nu._ My home is near the reservation, and much simpler." She smiled. "If you would like to come over some night . . . ."

Charlie's pulse sped up. "I accept your invitation."

"I would like to see your home as well," Emil said. He pointed to the house. "Impressive architecture. What is this Alexandru's last name?"

"Brancoven."

Emil's eyebrows rose. "Old money."

The front door opened. A bald man who looked more like a bodyguard than a servant said, "The master bids you and your friends welcome, Miss Nadia." He spoke in English. Was it because security wards allowed him to overhear their conversation?

She said, "Good evening, Jakab."

Jakab led them through the mirrored entry to a posh version of a lounge.

A blond man stood beside the fireplace. He matched the room, tailored and elegant. In the blink of an eye, he was at Nadia's side. He took her hand and brought it to his lips. "Introduce me to your friends, my sweet."

She moved closer to Charlie and slipped her hand through his arm. "Alexandru Brancoven, allow me to present my friends and fellow dragon keepers, Charlie Weasley and Emil Morgenstern." Nadia dropped her formal tone. "You can trust them. They gave a Wizard's Handshake in order to accompany me. We need your help to find a woman who has gone missing from the centre," she said urgently. "There is reason to believe she stole dragon scales for Marko and is in great danger."

"I can do nothing." Alexandru sounded regretful, yet firm—oddly parental for a man who appeared as young as his "child" did. He said, "Marko is under Catrinca's protection, and I will not be named a member of the Council until the next Gathering."

"But he has made Jane his thrall." Nadia's voice rose, reminding Charlie of Ginny's rare disagreements with their father. "Marko will kill her to hide his crimes!"

"Bring me the girl and I will take her to Luchian. Until then, you are on your own."

"No she isn't," Charlie said. "She has me."

Emil cleared his throat.

Charlie smiled. "She has us."

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Who expects the story to end with a bang instead of a whimper? Yes, yes, you're very smart. :D
> 
> The name Praslea comes from a Romanian fairytale, Praslea the Brave and the Golden Apples. In the tale, a young man rescues an (unnamed) princess kidnapped by ogres (Zmeu) and in the end lives happily ever after. With my fondness for intelligent ogres and fractured fairytales, I say the princess fell for one of her captors—who then used magic to keep his future in-laws from reacting like Princess Fiona's parents in Shrek2. The name Ioana I used because Ioana Sturdza is one of the authors of Fairy Tales and Legends from Romania . . . and yeah, if you put an 'F' at the beginning.
> 
> I googled a lot of random veterinary and human respiratory distress info to find what I needed for the dragon scene—and to think I used to pretend I was a vet and my stuffed animals were patients. Ignorance was bliss, lol. The Romanian curses I found scrolling through a forum. Some were…ahem…highly creative.


	10. Bonds

 

_She has us._

Nadia's eyes played over Charlie's burnished hair and the freckles she wanted to kiss individually. Being  _strigoi_ brought many losses, but the gain of this man made her newly thankful she had chosen to live. She hugged his arm close to her side and smiled at Emil in appreciation of his support.

Emil, who retained dignity even with his bony wrists protruding from the sleeves of a baggy coat said, "We should go."

Nadia agreed, but first, she would try to get what they needed another way. She asked Alexandru, "If you can do nothing, will you at least permit Jakab to help?"

Alexandru inclined his head. "He is free to do as he chooses."

Unlike his master, ruled by the Council. Nadia turned to the man who stood brawny and impassive just inside the doorway. " _Te rog,_ please, Jakab. We need someone with the Gift." She heard Charlie's indrawn breath when she pulled Jane's Quick-Notes Quill out of her pocket. Was he surprised that she had taken it, or that Jakab had the Gift of psychometry? She held out the quill. "Touch it. Tell us where she is." In the past, Jakab had entertained her by picking up objects and telling her details about the former owners. Surely, he could use his ability to find Jane.

"I would sense only past emotions and impressions. I do not have enough of the Gift."

"But you know someone who does," Nadia said, reading his tone.

Jakab looked to Alexandru as if for permission. "My sister is able to trace the line of energy from an object to its owner, if she is willing." He shrugged. "Margo is old and like a mule in her stubbornness."

"We don't need her," Emil said. "We can use spells—"

"They won't do any good if Marko's used the right counter-wards," Charlie said.

Nadia asked Jakab, "Is Margo susceptible to Glamour?"

"She has been."

Nadia didn't miss the way his gaze flickered past her. She pivoted to face Alexandru. "Help us persuade her. That is all I ask."

"You asked me for Jakab's assistance."

" _Te rog,_ Father."

A golden eyebrow arched. "You acknowledge me?"

If she had to humble herself, she would. "Your blood is in my veins, you are the reason I live."

In a flash, Alexandru stood before her. He gently kissed her forehead. "You will answer my letters now?" he murmured, his voice a breath of sound only she could hear.

He was a conniver, but a caring one. It had taken fifty years for her to see it—an extended  _strigoi_ adolescence? "Yes, Papa."

Alexandru ran a finger down her cheek and said to Jakab, "If you Apparate with Mr. Morgenstern, I shall transport my daughter and her  _friend,_ Mr. Weasley _._ "

"Yes, sir."

She held hands with Charlie as they followed Alexandru out of the room with Emil and Jakab trailing behind.

"Did I hear you call him 'Papa'?" Charlie asked in an undertone.

Since Alexandru's back was to them, and the other two men wouldn't be able to see her move so quickly, Nadia gave into temptation. She kissed Charlie's earlobe and then pulled back to say, "What attractive ears you have."

Charlie touched his earlobe, a bemused  _did you just do what I think you did?_  expression on his face. "In the fairy tale, the girl said to the wolf, 'What big ears you have'."

"How rude. I never heard of such a tale," Nadia said as she stepped into the chilly night. "Your ears are perfect."

Alexandru was smirking. He had heard what she said. Right before Side-Along Apparation, he bent down to whisper, faster than the human eye would register. "You like freckles?"

She looked at Charlie and felt a smile bloom inside. "I love them."

The sensation of Apparation affected her much less than when she was human. She barely felt the squeeze out of nothingness onto the slush covered pavement adjoining a block of flats far removed from the Soseaua Kisseleff—or any other tree-lined boulevard.

Alexandru curled his lip. "Communist architecture."

A window on the second floor opened. A boy of about nine or ten stuck his head out. He yawned and then shouted down to them.

Nadia moved to Charlie's side to translate. "Doamna Lautaru does no favours for  _strigoi."_  She listened to Jakab's reply and said, "He is telling the boy—Pali—that his little sister owes Alexandru a debt she cannot repay in two lifetimes."

The boy withdrew into the flat and shut the window.

"I saved her virtue twice," Alexandru said in response to Nadia's questioning glance. "First from a group of thugs, and then later, from her own determination, shall we say, to repay me."

"When did that happen?" Nadia asked.

"1921." Alexandru chuckled. "Jakab has held it over Margo's head ever since."

"The right of a brother," Jakab said solemnly with a twinkle in his eyes.

After a few minutes and the rattle of multiple locks, the boy led them into the building and up a narrow stairway that smelled of smoke and cabbage.

" _Salut_ , Pali, will you go to Durmstrang next year?" Nadia asked in both Romani and English. She didn't want Charlie to feel left out of the conversation.

" _Gadje_  wizards do not allow  _Roma_  in their school," Pali said in English. He spoke matter-of-factly, as if discussing the weather. "We teach ourselves."

"I am sorry," Nadia said. "I did not know." So much had changed in the world since her schooldays. How sad old prejudices remained. "I am sure you will be an excellent student."

When they reached the second floor landing, the boy threw her a cheeky look and pointed. A door opened. He ran inside calling, " _Puri daj_ , they are here."

Nadia asked Jakab, "Grandmother? I never knew you had relatives a—around."

If he guessed that she had almost said "alive," Jakab didn't show it. He said in the same factual tone Pali had used, "I was declared unclean. When my sister is gone I will have no family."

"I still breathe," a woman's voice said dryly.

Nadia met the green gaze of a sprightly old witch. Was this what she would have looked like if her years at the centre had passed in human fashion? " _Sastimos_ ," she said. "I apologise for the intrusion. There is a young woman—" she broke off, startled, when Margo touched her arm.

"I see only a dragon."

"She's never met Jane," Charlie said. He held out his hand.

Margo clasped his hand between hers. "Yes," she said, her eyelids fluttering closed. "A pawn of the walking dead. I see her." Margo opened her eyes. "This Jane is a  _dilo_ , a fool."

Nadia didn't miss the pointed look that accompanied the declaration.

Alexandru gave a husky laugh. "You were never foolish. Young and susceptible, perhaps. Have you never forgiven me?"

"You know I have," Margo answered, "but I am no longer swayed by your charms. I will find this girl of my own free will."

"Thank you."

Margo inclined her head in a way that mirrored Alexandru's earlier gesture. "Enter and be welcome," she said.

"Even me?" Alexandru asked.

" _Da_."

"May I return another time? Circumstances, regretfully, do not permit me to stay."

Nadia thought "Papa" was pushing his luck, but Margo slowly nodded. In a blur of motion, Alexandru kissed the woman's cheek and Disapparated.

"Come," Margo said, leading them into a dimly-lit room crowded with wood furnishings painted with floral designs. Pali obediently curled up under the covers on the settee when his grandmother told him to go back to sleep.

At the other end of the room, the adults sat at a table covered in cream-coloured lace. Nadia positioned her chair close to Charlie.

"Each of you cast a  _Lumos_  spell," Margo said. "I must be surrounded by white light to counter negative energy which might hinder the search."

Nadia hadn't used a wand since she became  _strigoi._ She conjured an illumination orb and held it in her palm.

Margo cast a spell to light the candelabra on the dresser behind her chair. "Clear your minds of all that is Dark." She closed her eyes. "Place the object in my hand, Jakab." Margo held the quill in her left hand, chanting beneath her breath. Suddenly, she grabbed her brother's left hand—the receptive hand in Divination—with her right, the dominant hand used to transmit impressions.

Jakab shuddered. "I know where to find the girl. She is alive."

Margo patted his cheek. "Trust in your Gift."

"Yes,  _Puri daj._ "

She pinched his ear. " _Ascultă cu urechile, vezi cu ochii, dar taci cu gura."_

"A Romanian proverb. Use your ears to listen, use your eyes to see, but use your mouth to shut up," Nadia whispered to Charlie.

"Ginny usually tells me the last bit."

"Do you tease her?" She pretended shock.

Charlie winked. "It's the right of a brother."

"Take mine and go, leave an old woman in peace," Margo said.

Nadia hadn't noticed the others rising from their chairs. Obviously, Jakab was not the only one who needed to heed the proverb. She added her thanks to the men's and waved to Pali, who sat up to watch them leave.

Downstairs, Nadia asked Jakab, "Where is Jane?"

"In a hotel near  _Gara de Nord._ "

"The North Station," Charlie said before Nadia could translate. He smiled a little. "I'm learning."

Emil said, "Which hotel?"

"Avocet Bucuresti."

"That's Muggle. Why go—" Emil broke off, a scowl expressing his realisation that it was easier for Marko to bypass security and leave no trace of his crimes in a Muggle hotel.

Charlie asked, "Where should we meet you two?"

"The lobby," Jakab said. "I saw the hotel room, not the number."

Nadia said, "We will find her."

It took only a few seconds to Apparate. The hotel was two hundred metres from the railway, a prime location. The car park was full.

Jakab cast a Disillusionment Charm. "Distract the clerk while I use the Gift."

She strolled into the lobby. The hotel's draw was convenience, not elegance. The floor tiles were dingy and the air smelled of tobacco. The young clerk slouched in a chair behind the reception desk looked on the verge of sleep until he caught sight of her. He jumped to his feet _._ " _Bine ai venit,_ welcome!"

_"Bună ziua_. Hello. A friend of mine is staying here, but I forgot her room number." She sighed. "You aren't allowed to tell it to me, are you?"

The clerk's long face became even more doleful. " _Nu_."

She looked into his eyes. "I haven't seen her in a long time. Is there nothing you can do?"

Even without using Glamour, the clerk was easy to sway. His eyes glazed over even as his heart rate sped up and his skin flushed. He gave a smile that revealed teeth stained by nicotine. "Tell me your friend's name, and I'll call her room."

"I have it," Jakab whispered.

Nadia snapped her fingers. "I just remembered. Thank you for your help." She strode to the lift.

"Anytime. I get off work at eight."

She pretended not to hear.

In the lift, an unseen finger pressed the button for the top floor. When the doors closed, the men became visible. Charlie stood close beside her.

Emil frowned. "You could have told him you have a boyfriend."

How sweet to be indignant on a friend's behalf. Not that Nadia would say it aloud.

Charlie looked amused. "I wasn't threatened."

There was something sexy about confidence. Nadia pressed her lips to Charlie's—slowly—so there was no question whether or not she had really done it.

 

 

Charlie had never had a girlfriend kiss him in front of his mates before. He wasn't like Bill. He preferred private displays of affection. Until now.

A soft ping announced their arrival at the top floor.

Jakab was the first one out of the lift. "I will knock and say I am management, that there has been a complaint." He went to a door, rapped once, and then froze. "Marko is gone. Jane is on the bed," he said tonelessly.

Charlie said, " _Alohomora!_ " The door unlocked. He burst into the room. Jane was fully dressed and did not appear physically injured.

Nadia darted past him. "Her pulse is steady," she said, merely by listening. "Her eyes are not dilated."

"What happened?" Charlie asked.

"I don't know." Jane made no effort to sit up. She yawned. "Hullo, Charlie, Emil. Are we having a party? I must have drunk too much. I'm sleepy."

Nadia asked, "Where's Marko?"

"Dunno." Jane yawned again. "Who're you?"

"Charlie's girlfriend."

Jane giggled. "That's funny. I heard he prefers dragons to women." She continued giggling to herself.

Charlie clenched his jaw. "We can't allow Marko to get away with this."

"She needs immediate treatment in a spell damage ward," Jakab said, "while it is possible for the Memory Charm to be reversed."

Emil said, "I will take her to St. Vasilica's and contact Dimitrie."

"Marko has gone to the House of Elders—to Catrinca." Jakab regarded them solemnly. "If you confront him, it must be on your own. I cannot endanger my master's position with the Council."

"You did what you could. Thank you." Charlie held out his hand.

Jakab shook it. "You are not  _strigoi_  or servant _._ You will not be permitted entrance."

"Then we'll sneak in."

"There is a side door at the rear that leads down to the kitchens," Jakab said. "Sometimes it is left open for deliveries."

Charlie didn't ask what kind of deliveries. He wrapped his hand around Nadia's forearm and braced for Apparation.

His insides felt like a wet flannel squeezed of excess water when they returned to the mansion district. He watched a grand abode spring up between two Muggle estates and said, "Will you be in trouble for revealing the House location?"

"If I am fortunate, they will ban me from Gatherings."

That would be fine by Charlie. He cast a Night Vision Spell.

Halfway around the perimeter of the house, Nadia made one of her quicker-than-the-eye moves and breathed in his ear, "Luchian's hellhounds are on our trail. Be ready."

Charlie shivered. True hellhounds? If only he had a camera. He whistled multiple "pips" the way Hagrid taught him.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm calling them."

She said something in Romanian Charlie doubted was complimenting his intelligence. He grinned to see two enormous black dogs with glowing red eyes bound toward them, running on top of the snow. He gave one long whistle.

The hellhounds sat.

Nadia remained tense. "You put the hounds off guard so we can  _Stupefy_ them?"

"No, I wanted to stabilise the situation and let them get used to us, sense that we're not a danger to their master," Charlie said. "Don't look them in the eye, stretch your arms out to the side, relax, and turn away slightly."

She did what he asked. "Why?"

"So they'll come close enough to pet." He whistled again.

The hellhounds padded over, approaching them from the side: a sign they were friendly and curious. Charlie slowly stroked each dog's neck below the jaw. The fur was coarse and stiff: natural protection. "Amazing," he murmured.

"I agree," said the man who materialised out of darkness. "My hounds are trained to hunt intruders, not be tamed by them."

Charlie ran his hands across strong canine backs. "Animals so dangerously majestic can never be tamed."

"Well spoken."

"We come for justice, noble Luchian, most wise of Elders," Nadia said.

Charlie thought she overdid the deference, but the elder-whatever seemed to take it as his due. He gestured for her to continue.

She said, "Marko Vasile enchanted a woman at the centre, made her his thrall to steal scales and—"

"Where is this woman?"

"In the hospital, noble one."

"No judgment can be rendered without proof," Luchian said. "A  _strigoi_ must be allowed to face his accuser."

Nadia said, "Then I accuse him."

"Before the Council?" Luchian said sharply.

"Yes."

Charlie gave the hounds a final pat and stood. "So do I."

"So be it," Luchian said.

"No!" Nadia cried. "He is human, Luchian. He does not know our ways."

"Then teach him quickly. I go to prepare the Council and deliver your challenge."

A second later, Luchian and the hounds were gone.

Charlie said, "Challenge. That sounds like a wizard duel."

"It is trial by combat." Nadia threw her arms around him. "I am so sorry."

He held her close. "I'm not. The bastard deserves a hex and a right pasting, if he gets close enough for Muggle Duelling."

"Your heart is beating faster," Nadia said. "You want to fight."

"Don't you?" Charlie felt her nod.

"But I have no experience Muggle Duelling."

He tipped Nadia's chin up to give her a swift kiss. "I'll teach you a few moves."

They took their time retracing the path to the front of the house. Nadia agreed that the best plan was to strike first, strike fast, and not let up. "We must put him on the defensive, gain the advantage."

Charlie was surprised to see Alexandru waiting for them on the steps. "What are you doing here?"

"I am Council-elect. I was summoned."

That explained the black dress robes, but why the grim face? "If you're worrying about Nadia, you shouldn't," Charlie said. "Marko's nothing compared to a broody dragoness."

Alexandru bit off his words. "Due to your interference, Mr. Weasley, Marko has also been permitted a second. He chose Catrinca."

Nadia remained composed. "She will underestimate us, and pride will be her downfall."

"She will entrance your foolish lover and use him against you!" Alexandru reached into his pocket and threw an object at Charlie. "The Rune  _Eoh_  for strength. Your will must be immovable."

And if it wasn't, Alexandru would make him pay—if he wasn't already dead. While Nadia hugged her  _Papa,_ Charlie studied the amulet hung from a black leather cord. He'd always liked green. "Thanks. What kind of stone is this?"

"Moss agate. I was told it enhances concentration, endurance and success."

Told by whom? Jakab? Margo? Charlie slipped the necklace over his head.

"The agate of warriors," Nadia said. She placed her hand over the stone, over his heart.

Charlie didn't care if every  _strigoi_ in the place could hear his pulse spike. He was ready to fight, win, and—if fortune held—celebrate. "Let's go."

Alexandru led them into a grand foyer filled with people who regarded the challenge as an opportunity to dress up, unless formalwear was their everyday clothing. It reminded him a little of the Gryffindor common room before a Quidditch match. He could read the same questions on their faces.  _Are you ready? Will you win?_

"Are these Council members?" Charlie asked.

"Uninvited spectators. The Council awaits," Alexandru said. "Remember not to speak unless spoken to. Only victors earn the right to be heard."

No appeal process. Convenient. Charlie wondered if the Minister for Magic was considering it. Fudge seemed the type.

Inside a mirrored ballroom, enchanted candles floated above men and women in black attire who lounged on gilt-covered chairs. Waiting for the entertainment to arrive?

On cue, a side door opened. A doll-like blonde woman swept into the room with her consort trailing behind her. Catrinca and Marko. The two wore robes in matching shades of dark red. So blood wouldn't show? Catrinca flung her arms out dramatically. "We have come to cleanse our sullied honour!"

_Our honour?_ Marko was the one accused. Catrinca was a bigger narcissist than Vain Jane could ever be.

Alexandru said in a ringing tone, "A challenge was given and accepted. The Council has convened. None may leave until judgment is rendered." He added in a low voice to Charlie, "If you have any questions, this is the time to ask."

Charlie didn't hesitate. "If a spell hits a mirror, will the glass shatter?"

" _Nu_. The spell will bounce off."

"And the Council?"

"Will be shielded."

Of course. "How long does the challenge last?"

"Until you are victorious or incapacitated. The only rule is that there are to be no cursed or grievous wounds."

Nadia said, "Only the Council inflicts those."

"Nice." In a weird way, Charlie meant it. What Marko had done deserved harsh punishment.

_"Stop stalling!"_

Alexandru responded to Catrinca's shriek with a mocking bow. He joined the other Council members.

The air in the ballroom crackled with tension. Charlie could almost hear the blast of Madam Hooch's silver whistle.

Luchian stood. "The challenge begins."

Charlie aimed his wand at Catrinca. " _Silencio!_ "

Catrinca clutched her throat.

" _Incarcerous!_ " Nadia yelled.

Thick ropes wound themselves around Marko. He didn't appear to notice. "Catrinca!  _Fin—Finite Incantatem_!"

Pali's words to Nadia raced through Charlie's mind.

_Gadje wizards do not allow Roma in their school. We teach ourselves._

Marko and Catrinca might be faster and stronger than a human wizard, but they each had magical handicaps. To believe they had any chance of winning a duel was blind arrogance.

" _Stupefy!"_

Nadia took out Marko a second too late. Catrinca regained her voice and cast a  _Petrificus Totalus_.

With Nadia immobilised, Charlie copied a page out of his sister's book of spells, aiming a Bat Bogey Hex at Catrinca. While she fought off winged bogeys, he hit her with another  _Silencio._ "Surrender," he said. "Marko isn't able to give you your voice back, and you can't cast a nonverbal spell!"

She began to cry.

It was the last thing Charlie expected. He watched tears well and fall, unable to look away or cast a spell that would end the challenge. Catrinca was helpless, fragile. How could he think about hurting her? He'd been raised to treat women better than that.

A spot on his chest burned. In a daze, he looked down at the Rune carved into agate. It glowed white. He clutched it and felt his foggy brain clear. Catrinca had used Glamour!

He turned to Nadia.

A shove knocked Charlie to the parquet floor.

Catrinca pinned him down and bared her teeth. Charlie drove his fingers into the small notch right below her windpipe at the base of her neck. In and down—exactly the way he'd shown Nadia.

Although  _Strigoi_ didn't breathe, they could still gag and sputter. He hit Catrinca with a  _Repello_ charm that blasted her into the air. Immediately, Charlie rose to counter the spell on Nadia. " _Rennervate_!"

She started to smile and then her eyes widened. For the second time, he was pushed off his feet. This time it was to the side as Nadia thrust him out of the way. Catrinca rushed in. Instead of trying to punch or kick, Nadia grabbed her adversary's shoulders, put a foot on her hip, and sat down, using Catrinca's forward momentum to throw her across the room.

Before Catrinca could do more than pick up her head, Nadia hurled spells. " _Densuageo!"_

Catrinca's front teeth rapidly grew to overhang her chin.

_"Furnunculus!"_

Hideous boils covered Catrinca's face. Yellow-white pus oozed and crusted around grotesque red lumps.

_"Tondeo!_

There was a metallic click, and then a faint clatter. Catrinca's mouth opened in a silent scream. She scooped up her fingernails, weeping, until Nadia's Body-Bind Curse transformed her into a statue of hideousness.

Charlie had no sympathy. He looked at Nadia and fought the urge to kiss her in front of the entire damn Council. "You hit her where it hurt—her vanity—and didn't let up."

"I remembered what you told me."

He closed the distance between them. "You used the Talon-Clipping Charm."

Her lips curved. "I meant no insult to our dragons."

_Our dragons._ Charlie liked the sound of that. There was no place he'd rather be than the centre—unless it was Nadia's house. Before they could leave, though, there were a few issues to clear up. He cast a  _Rennervate_ and told Marko, "You lost the challenge. Unless you want to share Catrinca's punishment, your only hope is to tell the truth."

Marko stared at his lover, disgust and horror in his eyes. "Anything."

"Tell them you made Jane Whatley your thrall to steal scales," Nadia said. "Confess you erased her memory."

"It was Catrinca," Marko said hoarsely. "I have difficulty with spells. She cast them for me."

The watching Council members erupted in a frenzy of shouted questions and exclamations. Over the clamour, Luchian said, "Silence! The Council will deal with its own in  _private."_

"As it did before?" Nadia asked. "Warnings and empty promises aren't enough. The next time a  _strigoi_ endangers a dragon I will notify the authorities from the Head Keeper to the Head of Aurors."

"There will not be another incident," Luchian said in a forbidding tone.

Marko whimpered. "Have mercy. It was Catrinca."

Luchian's hawk-like gaze travelled from Charlie to Nadia. "Go. You are no longer welcome here." His eyes blazed.

The ballroom disappeared.

Charlie and Nadia stood on snow-swept pavement facing a wrought-iron fence that provided security for Muggle estates.

"This isn't where we were before," Charlie said.

"Luchian has adjusted the spell, making the house Unplottable to us."

He put his arms around her. "I'm sorry," He said, not knowing what else to say.

Nadia laid her head on his shoulder. "I never wanted to be one of them."

"You're not." He brushed his lips across her hair. "You're nothing like them, you're different." Charlie tilted her face up and kissed her brow, her eyelids. "You're incredible," he said, settling his mouth over hers, kissing Nadia the way he'd longed to in the ballroom, holding nothing back. He wanted to kiss her forever. "Some night," he said between kisses that made it hard to think, much less speak. "You invited me to come over some night." He slid his hands down her back. "When—"

"Tonight, if you desire."

He answered with another kiss, remembering the way he once invited Nadia into his life without a clue how things would change. Now, he knew exactly how he felt and where this talk would lead.

Charlie couldn't wait to get there.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And they lived adventurously ever after . . . .
> 
> How could our lovers do anything else? Even if Catrinca and Marko turn "vegetarian" and never plot revenge, (yes, I'm smirking at the unlikelihood), the lure of easy money from dragon scales will always draw poachers. Whether from a strigoi Rom or just the "average" wizard, dragons continually need protection—and that's just the way our couple likes it. Charlie and Nadia won't get married (hence the misleading belief that he prefers dragons to women), but they will be life partners. If anyone wonders if Emil and Maia ever got together, or if Charlie one day chooses to bond with Nadia in different, keep-the-dayshift-but-never-get-old kind of way, I leave that to the imagination. At the same time, I'll admit that in my own, Emil and Maia name their son Charles, and Charlie Weasley will always look young.
> 
> There's an Ibis Bucuresti hotel I didn't want to malign by describing as seedy, so I googled long-legged wading birds found in Romania and altered the name. I had fun looking up everything from proverbs and psychometry to fairy tales (Vasilica the Brave became St. Vasilica's), runes and hellhounds, and I hope readers enjoyed the details and the story!

**Author's Note:**

> JKR’s comment that Charlie prefers dragons to women made me think, women, plural, maybe, but the right woman who loves dragons as much as he does would be a different story (this one ^_~). I took my dragon info from GoF and memories of Anne McCaffrey's Pern series. My Romanian info came from research gathered for an earlier story—research, like a mind, is a terrible thing to waste. As for vampires, I looked up the Romanian versions and tweaked folklore to suit plot purposes.


End file.
